THE   HOYS   WATCH   THK   STRANGE   FIGURE. 


Paae  27? 


THE 


BOY  EMIGRANTS 


BY 

NOAH    BROOKS 


With  Illustrations  by  Thomas  Moran  and 
W.  L.  Sheppard 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1895 


COPYRIGHT,  isre,  BY 
ARMSTRONG  A 


To^  ARTHUR    H.   PERKINS, 

HARTFORD,  CONN. 
My  Dear  Artie: 

This  little  story  of  the  "Boy  Emigrants" is  written 
that  you  and  other  boys  like  you  may  learn  something 
of  the  strange,  eventful  history  of  the  early  overland 
travelers  to  California.  If  you  shall  be  amused  and 
entertained  while  you  read  this  simple  tale  of  real 
adventure  I  shall  be  glad;  for,  although  this  is  in 
some  sense  a  historical  sketch,  it  is  not  so  long  since  1 
was  a  boy  that  I  have  forgotten  that  mere  history  is 
very  dry  reading  to  most  young  folks.  The  scenery  of 
the  book  is  all  taken  from  nature ;  many  of  the  char 
acters  were  real  people;  and  almost  all  the  incidents 
which  here  befall  the  Boy  Emigrants  came  under  my 
own  observation,  or  under  that  of  people  whom  1  knew 
on  the  trail  or  in  California. 

I  have  said  that  this  is  a  historical  sketch :  and  I 
ought  to  add  that  it  is  a  diffident  attempt  to  rescue 
from  forgetfulness  some  of  the  traits  of  a  peculiar  move 
ment  of  American  population.  Many,  perhaps  most,  of 


154225O 


the  people  who  undertook  the  toilsome  journey  across 
the  continent  have  passed  away.  The  trail,  worn  smooth 
by  countless  thousands  of  weary  feet,  is  covered  by  an  iron 
road ;  railway  trains  flash  in  a  few  days  over  the  vast 

spaces  where  once  the  wagon  of  the  emigrant  crept 

i 

painfully  through  months  of  travel.  Towns  and  vil-  '> 
lages  occupy  the  old  camping-places  of  the  wandering 
gold-seeker;  and  the  telegraph  wire  sings  through 
lonely  hollows  once  lighted  by  his  watch-fires.  This  is 
all  right  and  natural;  but  it  is  only  just  that  those 
who  come  after  the  pioneers  should  sometimes  recall 
their  trials,  struggles  and  triumphs. 

The  little  company  whose  haps  and  mishaps  form 
the  slender  plot  of  this  story  are  pleasant  types  of  some 
of  those  whom  we  used  to  meet  on  the  plains.  I  hope 
you  will  be  interested  in  their  varying  fortunes ;  and 
I  am  sure  you  will  have  no  occasion  to  be  ashamed  of 
the  young  emigrant  for  whom  I  have  taken  the  liberty 
of  borrowing  your  name. 

Affectionately  yours, 

NOAH  BROOKS. 
New  York   November,  1876. 


CONTENTS 


fan 

CHAPTER  I. 
Hard  T'mes  at  Home ...      1 

CHAPTER  n. 
Great  Preparations 8 

CHAPTER  III. 
Camping  Out 19 

CHAPTER  IV. 
"  The  Jumping-off  Place" 29 


CHAPTER  V. 
New  Partners .     41 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Adrift 53 

CHAPTER  VH. 
Trouble  in  the  Camp 66 

CHAPTER  VHL 
Some  New  Acquaintances 79 

CHAPTER  IX. 


A  Misadventure. . 


CHAPTER  X. 
Among  the  Buffaloes 103 

CHAPTER  XL 
In  which  the  Boston  Boys  lose  an  Old  Friend,  and  find  a  New  Friend,  lltf 

CHAPTER  XII. 
la  the  Heart  of  the  Continent 128 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Laughter  and  Tears 146 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
In  Mormondom .    158 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
A  Great  Disaster 166 

CHAPTER  XVL 
IntheDesert 178 

CHAPTER  XVH 
The  Golden  Land 19i 

CHAPTER  XVIIL 
Crow-bait  Gulch 203 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Gold 2131 

CHAPTER  XX. 
House-Building 221 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
An  Expedition,  and  What  Came  of  It. 230 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Privation  and  Deliverance 239 

CHAPTER  XXIIL 
Luck  in  Streaks. 249 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Wandering  Once  More 260 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
A  Separation  and  a  Calamity 268 

CHAPTER  XXVL 
AStrangeCase 275 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
News  and  Discoveries 282 

CHAPTER  XXVin. 
Developments , 292 

CHAPTER  XXLX. 
Reckoning  Up  the  Gains 801 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
Homeward  Bound. ....  804 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


FAG1 

THE  BOYS  WATCH  THE  STRANGE  FIGURE.    (Frontispiece.) 

LOOKING  OFF  DOWN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  BOCK 11 

DEPARTURE  OF  THE  GOLD  HUNTERS 17 

THE  CAMP  AT  THE  JUMPING-OFF  PLACE 28 

AWAY  FLEW  THE  TENT  LIKE  A  HUGE  BALLOOH 55 

HntAM 70 

ARTHUR  AND  THE  BUFFALO 85 

EVERYBODY  BUSHED  TO  THE  WRECK 98 

NANCE  APPEARS 99 

MONT 10(5 

JOHNNY 119 

CAUGHT  IN  THK  ACT 135 

ARTHUR 134 

BUSH'S  GO-CART 153 

THE  STAMPEDE 154 

TIIE  MIRAGE 187 

THE  AVALANCHE 237 

QB  PRESSED  THE  PRECIOUS  HANDFUL  TO  HIS  LIPS 891 

i          ING  HOMEWARD 306 


THE    BOY    EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  L 

HAKD   TIMES   AT   HOME. 

no  use  talking,  Arty,  there  art 
too  many  of  us.  The  pie  don't 
go  round." 

Arthur  smiled  a  little  ruefully 
as  he  added  to  Barnard's  com 
plaint:  "And  Sam  and  Oliver 
wear  their  clothes  all  out  before 
they  can  be  made  over  for  me." 

Barnard — whose  whole  name, 
by  the  way,  was  Barker  Barnard 
Stevens — showed  his  confidence 
in    his  younger  brother's  judg- 
*K    ment  when  he  said :  "  As  we  are 
a  too  numerous  family,  what  is  to  be  dono 
about  it?     Kill  off  a  few?" 

Arthur  was  one  of  seven — great  hearty  < 
boys  all  of  them.  His  trousers  were  in 
herited  from  his  elder  brother  Sam,  and  had  been 
"turned"  in  the  legs  and  were  already  inconveniently 
short-.  With  an  impatient  little  jerk  at  the  knee  of  one 
of  these  objectionable  legs,  he  said:  "Let's  emigmte!" 


2  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Barnard,  five  years  older,  and  more  cautious,  asked: 
"Whereto?" 

"  Oh,  anywhere,  BO  that  'ire  have  a  chance  to  strike  out 
for  ourselves.  Father  emigrated  from  Vermont  with  all 
of  us  young  ones,  and  why  shouldn't  we  put  out  for  the 
Far  West,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  It  isn't  so  far  from  Illinois 
to  Somewhereelse  now,  as  it  was  from  Vermont  to  Illinois 
when  we  were  brought  here." 

"  A  great  deal  you  know  about  it,  young  Arthur  boy. 
Why,  you  were  only  six  years  old  when  we  came  here." 

"  All  right,  Barney,  but  I'm  fifteen  now,  and  have  not 
studied  geography  for  nothing." 

"  Boys !  boys !  it's  time  to  turn  in.  You've  got  to  gc 
down  to  Turner's  to-morrow  after  those  grain  sacks ;  and 
your  ma  says  there's  no  rye-meal  in  the  house  for  Satur 
day's  baking." 

This  was  the  voice  of  Farmer  Stevens  from  the  porch. 
The  boys  had  been  sitting  on  the  rail-fence  in  front  of  the 
house  while  the  twilight  fell.  The  evening  was  tranquil 
but  gloomy,  and  they  had  taken  a  somewhat  sombre  view 
of  family  affairs,  considering  what  cheery,  hopeful  young 
fellows  they  were. 

But  it  was  a  fact  that  there  were  too  many  of  them. 
There  were  four  boys  older  than  Arthur,  two  younger, 
and  a  baby  sister.  Since  the  Stevens  family  hud  settled 
in  Northern  Illinois,  things  had  gone  wrong  all  over  the 
country.  First,  the  chinch-bag  came  upon  them  and  ato 
up  their  crop — and  it  was  not  much  of  a  crop,  either 
Then  they  had  a  good  year  and  felt  encouraged  ;  but  next 
there  fell  a  sort  of  blight  on  the  Rock  River  region.  It 
was  dry  in  seeding-time  and  wet  in  harvest.  The  smut 
got  into  the  wheat — and  nobody  planted  anything  besides 
wheat  in  those  days.  So,  what  with  rust,  mildew,  and 


HARD  TIMES  AT  HOME.  * 

other  plagues,  poor  Farmer  Stevens  was  left  without  much 
more  than  grain  enough  to  feed  his  growing  boys.  His 
cattle  went  hungry  or  to  the  butchers.  From  year  to  year 
things  alternated  between  bad  and  worse.  It  was  dis 
couraging. 

As  the  boys  climbed  down  from  their  perch,  Barnard 
said  to  liis  father : 

"  Arty  and  I  are  going  to  emigrate." 

"  Yes,  to  Turner's  mill ;  and  be  sure  you  bring  back  all 
those  grain-sacks,  Arthur." 

But  the  watchful  mother  heard  the  remark,  and  said,  as 
the  boys  lumbered  upstairs  to  bed : 

"Barnard  was  cut-up  to-night  because  he  missed  his 
piece  of  pie.  Joe  Griffin  was  here,  and  it  did  not  go 
round." 

"  Well,  I  must  say,  mother,"  replied  Farmer  Stevens, 
"  it's  hard  lines  when  the  boys  fall  out  with  their  prov 
ender  ;  but  Barney  is  dreadful  notional,  and  he's  out  of 
conceit  with  Illinois." 

"  Yes,  father,  he  is  a  restless  boy,  and  he  and  Arty 
set  so  much  by  each  other ;  when  one  goes  the  other 
will." 

The  poor  mother  laid  her  sleeping  baby  in  the  cradle, 
and  sat  for  a  moment  looking  out  over  the  dim  landscape 
beyond  the  open  window. 

Sugar  Grove  was  a  small  settlement  on  a  broken  rise  of 
ground.  Behind  stood  a  dense  grove  of  sugar-maples, 
extending  two  miles  east  and  west.  In  front  of  the  few 
houses  and  the  row  of  wheat-farms  was  a  broad  valley 
belted  with  trees,  and  through  which  Rock  River  wound 
in  big  curves,  now  faint  in  the  early  summer  night.  The 
crop  was  mostly  in  the  ground,  and  the  little  farm  looked 
tidy.  But  the  fences  were  not  in  good  repair,  the  house 


4  TEE  BOY  EMIORAS TS. 

had  never  been  painted,  and  the  whole  place   seemed 
pinched  and  poor. 

«  This  isn't  the  '  rich  West,'  after  all,"  sighed  Mrs.  Ste 
vens,  Badly;  and  the  tears  gathered  in  her  eyes  as  she 
thought  of  her  noble  boys  growing  up  in  such  strait  cir 
cumstances,  with  defeat  and  poverty  continually  before 
them.  "  So  the  pie  wouldn't  go  round  ?  Poor  Barney ! " 
The  mother  laughed  a  sad  little  laugh  to  herself,  as  she 
thought  of  Barnard's  grim  discontent. 

Returning  from  Turner's,  next  day,  Arthur  brought 
the  family  mail,  which  had  been  left  at  the  mill  by  some 
of  the  neighbors  down  the  road,  on  their  way  home  from 
town.  It  was  not  a  heavy  mail ;  and,  as  Arthur  jogged 
along  on  Old  Jim,  sitting  among  the  grain-sacks,  he  opened 
the  village  newspaper.  The  Lee  County  Banner  was 
published  once  a  week,  and  the  local  news  usually  occu 
pied  half  a  column.  This  week  that  important  part  of 
the  paper  was  led  off  with  a  long  paragraph  headed 
"Latest  News  from  California!  Arrival  of  Joshua 
Gates,  Esq.  1 "  Arthur  held  his  breath  and  read  as  fol 
lows: 

We  take  great  pleasure  in  informing  our  friends  and  patrons,  as  well 
as  the  public  generally,  that  Joshua  Gates,  Esq.,  our  esteemed  and 
highly-respected  fellow-citizen,  has  just  arrived  from  California,  over 
land.  Accompanied  by  a  bold  and  adventurous  band  of  Missourians, 
he  has  crossed  the  continent  in  the  unprecedented  time  of  sixty-five 
days,  stopping  in  Mormoniom  two  days  to  recruit.  Our  fortunate 
fellow-citizen  brings  ample  confirmation  of  the  richness  of  the  gold  dis 
coveries  of  California.  To  say  that  he  brings  tangible  proof  of  all  this 
would  be  to  put  the  case  in  its  mildest  form.  Our  hands  have  handled 
and  our  optics  have  gazed  upon  the  real  stuff  brought  by  our  enterprising 
fellow-citizen,  who  assures  us  that  the  half  has  not  been  told  us,  and 
that  he  proposes  to  return  as  soon  as  possible  to  what  may  now  with 
extreme  propriety  be  called  the  Land  of  Gold,  where  we  are  told  that 
\  "strike"  of  hundreds  of  thousands  is  a  common  thing,  and  a*iy  in- 


HARD  TIMES  AT  HOME.  5 

dustrious  man  may  make  from  $15  to  $1,500  per  day.  We  welcome 
our  distinguished  fellow-citizen  home  again,  and  congratulate  him  on 
his  well-deserved  success.  We  append  a  few  of  the  reigning  prices  in 
California:  Flour,  $15  per  bbl. ;  pork,  $1.50  per  Ib. ;  fresh  beef,  $1.00 
to  $1.50  ditto  ;  mining  boots,  $50  per  pr. ;  quinine,  $50  per  oz. ;  newt- 
papers,  anywhere  from  $1.00  to  $5.00  each. 

"  Gold  I  Gold  !  Gold !   Gold ! 
Bright  and  yellow,  hard  and  cold, 
Molten,  graven,  hammer'd  and  rolled ; 
Heavy  to  get  and  light  to  hold." 

Arthur  did  not  stop  to  read  the  poetry ;  he  folded  up 
the  paper  with  emphasis,  jammed  it  into  his  pocket,  pulled 
his  straw  hat  tightly  on  his  head,  and  said :  "  The  very 
thing !  "  Old  Jim,  who  had  been  browsing  off  the  hazel 
brush  as  his  young  rider  absorbed  the  news,  looked  around 
with  meek  surprise. 

"  Yes,  you  old  rascal,  that's  the  very  thing !  "We'll  go 
to  California,  my  boy ;  and  when  we  are  picking  up  the 
diamonds  and  gold-dust,  won't  we  tell  Old  Turner  to  go 
hang  for  an  old  hunks  1 " 

Jim  neighed  and  pricked  up  his  ears,  just  as  if  he  un 
derstood  that  the  miller  had  taken  more  toll  from  the  rye 
than  young  Arthur  thought  he  was  entitled  to. 

"  Digging  up  gold  in  California !  Hey,  Jim  I  "  and 
Arthur  went  cantering  up  the  road  as  blithely  as  if  he 
were  already  in  the  Land  of  Gold. 

"  Say,  mother,  Josh  Gates  has  got  back." 

"  Has  that  worthless,  miserable  vagabond  come  back  to 
plague  his  poor  old  mother  once  more  ? "  asked  the  plain- 
speaking  Mrs.  Stevens.  "  Well,  well,  he's  the  bad  penny, 
that's  certain  sure." 

"  But  he's  rich — got  lots  of  gold  from  California — and 
the  Banner  says  he's  a  distinguished  fellow-citizen,"  re 


ft  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

monstrated  Arthur,  who  suddenly  reflected,  however,  thai 
Josh  Gates  had  gone  off  "  between  two  days,"  when  he 
departed  from  Lee  County,  and  that  he  had  been  indicted 
for  stealing  hens,  and  that  his  former  reputation  in  the 
town  of  Richardson  was  not  at  all  fragrant. 

Arthur  was  a  little  crestfallen,  but  he  handed  Sam  the 
paper,  and  said : 

"  Perhaps  Gates  is  a  liar,  as  well  as  a  chicken-stealer  ; 
but  you  see  the  newspaper  man  says  that  he  has  seen  his 
gold-dust ;  so  there !  " 

"  Oh,  pshaw  1 "  said  his  mother,  returning  to  her  wash- 
tub  ;  "  these  gold  stories  about  California  are  all  got  up  to 
help  the  shipping  people.  They  are  selling  their  vessels, 
and  advertising  to  take  folks  out  at  great  prices.  So  the 
Chicago  papers  say  1 " 

"  But  Josh  Gates  came  back  overland,  ma,"  said  the 
boy. 

"  '  Tis  my  opinion  that  that  scamp  has  never  been  farther 
west  than  Iowa,"  cried  Sam,  holding  up  the  paper  with 
a  knowing  air.  "  Hi  Fender  saw  him  over  to  Council 
Bluffs  last  fall,  sweeping  out  a  billiard  saloon.  He  went 
from  there  to  St.  Louis  as  deck  hand  on  a  steamboat. 
He  ain't  worth  shucks." 

Having  so  said,  Sam  went  on  mending  his  ox-yoke,  as 
if  the  case  were  finally  settled. 

That  day,  Arthur  and  Barnard  worked  together  in  the 
field,  putting  in  a  second  crop  where  the  first  seeding  had 
been  winter-killed.  They  talked  over  and  over  again  the 
chances  of  the  journey  to  California,  the  story  of  the  gold 
discoveries,  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  Josh  Gates,  and  all 
the  ways  and  means  of  getting  across  the  continent 
About  this  last  branch  of  the  subject  there  was  a  great 
deal  of  doubt.  It  would  cost  mich  money. 


HARD  TIMES  AT  HOME.  7 

"  But  only  think,  Barney,  how  grand  't  would  be  if  we 
could  come  home  in  a  year  or  two  with  lots  of  gold,  pay 
off  the  mortgage,  build  a  new  house,  and  fix  things  com 
fortable  for  the  folks  during  the  rest  of  their  lives! 
Wouldn't  that  pay?"  And  Arthur,  in  a  great  glow  cf 
anticipation,  scattered  the  seed- wheat  far  and  wide  by  big 
handfuls. 

"  Take  care  there,  boy  1  you  're  throwing  away  that 
grain,"  grumbled  Barnard,  who  was  twenty  years  old,  and 
a  little  less  enthusiastic  than  Arthur.  But  he  added,  "  I 
do  just  believe  there 's  gold  in  California ;  and  if  we  can 
only  figure  it  out  to  satisfy  the  folks,  we  '11  go  there  by 
hook  or  crook." 

"It's  a  whack  >r  cried  Arthur,  who  was  ardent,  and  i 

le  slangy. 


THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 
GREAT  PJBEPABATIONS. 

"Now,  if  I  was  in  a  story-book,"  said  Aitlmi  to  him 
self,  one  day,  "  I  should  find  a  wallet  in  the  road,  with  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  it."  One  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  was  just  about  the  sura  which  the  boys  had  found 
they  needed  to  complete  an  outfit  for  California.  Without 
any  formal  declaration  of  their  intention,  or  any  expres 
sion  of  opinion  from  father  and  mother,  Barnard  and 
Arthur  had  gone  on  with  their  plans ;  but  these  were  all 
in  the  air,  BO  far.  The  details  worried  them  a  great  deal. 

There  was  a  spare  wagon  on  the  farm  which  might  be 
fixed  up  and  mended  well  enough  to  last  for  the  journey 
across  the  Plains.  Old  Jim  could  be  taken  from  the 
plow ;  but  they  must  have  another  horse,  some  mining 
tools,  harness,  and  provisions.  From  a  New  England 
newspaper  they  cut  a  list  of  articles  considered  necessary 
for  the  journey.  It  was  fascinating,  but  formidable.  Thie 
is  the  way  it  ran : 

1  Wagon $125  00 

Wagon  Cover 12  00 

2  Horses  or  Mules 15000 

Harness 0000 

Tent 2500 

4  Picks 500 

5  Shovels 4  40 


GREAT  PREPARATIONS 

Brought  forward $381  40 

4  Gold-PaiiB. .    1  00 

2  Axes 550 

8  Cwt.  Flour 8400 

1  Bush.  Beans 1  25 

2  Bush,  Corn  Meal 475 

1  Cwt.  Pork 10  00 

4  Cwt.  Bacon   M  00 

1  Cwt.  Sugar 8  00 

50  Lbs.  Rice : 5  50 

60  Lbs.  Coffee 10  80 

Sundry  Small  Stores 10  00 

Ammunition 12  00 

Medicines. . ,                                 6  00 


Total |523  20 

"More  than  five  hundred  dollars!"  Arthur  would  say, 
over  and  over  again.  "  More  than  five  hundred  dollars, 
and  we  haven't  five  hundred  cents!" 

By  degrees,  however,  the  boys  had  managed  to  reduce 
the  sum  total  somewhat.  The  wagon,  they  thought,  might 
be  taken  out  of  the  list.  So  might  one  of  the  horses,  if 
Old  Jim  could  be  put  instead.  Then  the  sixty  dollars  for 
harness  could  be  brought  down  to  less  than  half  that 
amount.  They  could  make  some  of  the  old  harness  on 
the  farm  available — with  their  father's  consent.  They 
could  take  less  pork  and  more  bacon. 

"  I  hate  pork,  any  how,"  said  Barnard,  who  had  w:rked 
one  season  of  haying  with  a  neighbor,  and  had  been  fed 
OB  fiied  pork  and  hot  bread  three  times  a  day  for  five 
weeks. 

"But  we  can't  have  hams  and  shoulders,"  objected 
Arthur.  "  Don't  they  cost  a  good  deal  ? '' 

"  Side  meat's  the  thing,  Arty.  No  bones  in  it ;  easy  tc 
carry,  and  cheap.  Nine  cents  a  pound  ;  and  we've  got  a 

rx' 


10  THE  HOT  EMIGRANTS. 

lot  in  the  smoke-house,  you  know,  that  perhaps  f  tither  will 
let  us  have  some  from." 

"  And  this  fellow  has  got  down  bacon  at  eleven  cents  a 
pound  1 "  said  Arthur,  with  great  disdain.  "  And  what  he 
should  put  in  '  Sunday  small  stores '  at  ten  dollars  for,  is 
more  than  I  know.  What  are  '  Sunday  small  stores,'  any 
how?" 

"Ho,  you  goose! — those  are  ' sundry  small  stores.' 
You've  made  an  a  out  of  an  r;  that's  all.  'Sunday 
small  stores!'  Well,  that's  a  good  one!  lie's  guessed 
at  the  lot :  and  I  guess  it's  high  for  a  little  salt,  spice,  and 
such  knick-nacks.  Besides,  there's  five  dollars  for  medi 
cine.  Who's  going  to  be  sick  on  the  Plains,  I'd  like  to 
know?" 

A  multitude  of  such  discussions  as  these,  with  much 
contriving  and  figuring,  put  the  young  emigrants  where 
they  could  see  their  way  clear  to  an  outfit — if  they  had 
only  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  cash.  That  was  a 
big  sum;  and,  even  with  this,  they  had  calculated  on  ob 
taining  permission  to  take  from  the  farm  many  things 
which  were  needed. 

The  boys  studied  over  the  ways  and  means  of  getting  to 
California  with  real  enjoyment.  Hubert,  the  big  brother, 
who  was  employed  in  a  store  in  town,  and  came  home  on 
Sundays,  declared  that  Arthur  carried  the  printed  slip  from 
the  Plowman  to  bed  with  him.  Nevertheless,  the  whole 
family  joined  in  the  debate  over  the  propriety  of  taking 
corn-meal  on  such  a  long  journey,  or  the  cost  of  extra 
boots  and  clothing  for  the  travelers,  with  a  glow  of  satis 
faction.  It  was  a  novelty,  and,  though  none  but  Barney 
and  Arthur  really  thought  anything  would  come  of  it,  all 
the  boys  discussed  the  route,  outfit,  and  dangers  of  the 
way,  at  morning,  noon  and  night. 


GREAT  PREPARATIONS.  \\ 

They  made  out  new  lists  of  things  indispensable  for  the 
trip,  and  fingered  these  with  a  certain  sort  of  fascination 
for  the  items  and  figures  which  was  quite  satisfactory.  As 
Sam  said  one  day,  they  had  the  fun  of  talking  about  it, 
even  if  nobody  should  go. 

The  careworn  mother  looked  on  and  listened.  Ske 
could  not  contentedly  think  of  these  dear  young  fledglings 
of  hers  flying  so  far  away  from  the  home  nest  There 
were  dreadful  tales  of  Indians  on  the  way,  disease,  and 
death,  and  violence  and  crime  in  the  gold  diggings.  What 
would  become  of  her  boys,  alone  and  unfriended,  in  that 
rude  country,  even  if  they  should  ever  reach  it?  She 
looked  at  Arthur's  golden  head,  deep  in  the  mysteries  of 
the  cookery-book,  which  he  was  studying  for  future  use ; 
and  she  sighed  and  smiled  together.  Could  she  trust  her 
boy  to  the  chances  of  a  roving  life  on  the  Plains?  "Would 
he  find  there  the  romance  and  fun  which  he  anticipated  ? 

"  If  I  was  only  in  a  story-book,  now,  I  should  find  a 
wallet  in  the  road  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in 
it." 

Arthur  had  said  this  to  himself  a  great  many  times. 
This  time,  as  he  lay  at  full  length  on  top  of  the  hill  behind 
the  house,  looking  off  down  the  valley  of  the  Rock,  he 
built  once  more  his  golden  dream.  Beyond  the  brown, 
newly-plowed  fields,  suggesting  only  hard  work ;  beyond 
the  tall  cottonwoods  that  bordered  the  stream,  and  beyond 
the  pale  blue  line  where  the  valley  of  the  Rock  River 
melted  into  the  sky,  was  the  promised  land  So  far  away 
it  was !  Yet  he  could  see,  he  thought,  the  gay  caravans 
pressing  on  to  the  golden  shores  of  the  Pacific.  There 
were  long  trains  of  brave  men  with  wagons,  horses,  and 
arms.  There  were  the  rolling  prairies  dotted  with  buffalo, 
deer,  and  strange  game.  The  red  man  lurked  by  the 


1 2  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

trails,  but  fled  away  to  the  snow-capped  mountains  as  th« 
white  conqueror  came  on  apace.  The  grand  Rocky  Moun 
tains,  whose  devious  line  he  had  painfully  studied  on  hia 
school-map,  rose  majestically  on  the  horizon,  lying  like 
clouds  against  the  sky. 

How  mean  and  narrow  the  little  farm  below  him  looked ! 
11  ow  small  the  valley  and  how  wearisome  the  plowed 
fields !  He  remembered  that  his  back  had  ached  with  the 
planting  of  that  ten-acre  lot ;  and  he  remembered,  too, 
how  his  father  had  said  that  little  boys'  backs  never  ached ; 
that  little  boys  thought  their  backs  ached,  but  they  didn't. 
Arthur  turned  his  eyes  westward  again  with  a  vague  and 
restless  longing.  Surely,  there  was  a  place  for  him  some 
where  outside  the  narrow  valley,  where  he  could  make  a 
name,  see  the  world,  and  learn  something  besides  plowing, 
sowing,  harvesting  and  saving. 

"  One  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,"  he  murmured  once 
more,  as  his  eyes  fell  on  Hiram  Fender,  slowly  plodding 
his  way  through  the  tall  grass  below  the  hill.  "  Oh,  Hi !  " 
called  Arthur,  and  Hiram,  shading  his  eyes  from  the  sink 
ing  sun,  looked  up  where  Arthur  lay  on  the  ledge.  Every 
body  liked  the  cheery  Arthur;  and  Hi  Fender  climbed 
the  hill  with  "  Well,  now,  youngster,  what's  up  ? " 

"  Nothing,  only  Barney  wanted  me  to  ask  you,  whenevei 
I  saw  you,  what  you'd  take  for  that  white  marc  of  yours. 
She  is  yours,  isn't  she  ? " 

"  Well,  yes,  I  allow  she's  mine.     Dad  said  he'd  gin  he 
to  me  on  my  twenty-first  birthday,  and  that  was  Aprile 
the  twenty-one." 

"  What'll  you  take  for  her  ? " 

"  Don't  want  to  sell.     Besides,  what  d'ye  want  her  for!  '• 

"  To  go  to  California  with." 

"  Be  you  fellers  going  to  Californy  ? " 


ORE  A  T  PREP  AM  A  Tl  ON8.  \  g 

u  Yes,  if  wo  can  get  up  an  outfit." 

Hiram  Fender  looked  languidly  over  the  glowing  land 
scape.  He  was  a  "  slow-molded  chap,"  Farmer  Stevens 
said  ;  and  he  never  was  excited.  But  the  sun  seemed  to 
burn  in  his  eyes  aa  he  said :  "  Will  you  take  a  fellow 
along  ? " 

"Who?    You?" 

"  Sartin,  sartin ;  I've  been  a-thinkin'  it  over,  and  I'll  gc 
if  you  fellers  go." 

Arthur  jumped  up,  swung  his  ragged  hat  two  or  three 
times,  and  said :  "  Good  for  you.  Hi  1  and  the  list  is  made 
out  for  four !  " 

Hiram  looked  on  him  with  a  mild  query  expressed  on 
his  freckled  face,  and  Arthur  took  out  of  his  pocket  the 
well-worn  list  for  the  outfit  and  read  :  "  The  following  list 
is  calculated  for  four  persons,  making  a  four  months' 
trip  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  gold  diggings." 

Hiram  looked  at  it  and  said :  "  Five  hundred  and  twenty 
three  dollars  1  Phew ! " 

Hiram's  father  was  a  thrifty  Illinois  farmer.  The  neigh 
bors  said  he  was  "  forehanded ;  "  but  he  had  brought  up 
his  boys  to  look  at  least  twice  at  a  dollar  before  spending 
it ;  therefore,  when  Hiram  looked  at  the  sum  total  of 
the  list,  he  said  "  Phew  1 "  with  an  expression  of  great 
dismay. 

"  But,"  cried  Arthur,  "  it  is  for  four  persons,  and  we 
have  figured  it  down  so  that  we  only  want  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars.  Can't  you  think  of  some  other  felloe 
that  would  go  ?  Then  we  should  have  a  party  of  four." 

"  I  allow  that  Tom  might  go.  He  wants  to  go  to  Cali- 
forny  powerful  bad  ;  but  I  ain't  right  sure  that  dad'll  let 
him." 

Now,  Tom  -was  Hiram's  younger  brother  and  Arthur'! 


14  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

particular  aversion.  So  Arthur  dubiously  said :  "  Wculdii'l 
Bill  go?" 

"Billl"  repeated  Hiram,  with  great  disgust.  "Bill 
hasn't  got  spunk  enough  to  go  across  the  Mississippi.  Why, 
he's  that  scared  of  Injuns  that  he  gets  up  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  dreaming  like  enough,  and  yelling  "  Injuns !  In 
juns  !  "  He  was  scart  by  a  squaw  when  he  was  a  baby, 
and  he  goes  on  like  mad  whenever  he  hears  'em  mentioned." 

Arthur  laughed.     "  And  he's  older  than  you,  Hi  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Bill's  the  oldest  of  the  family.  But  there's  little 
f  om,  now.  Aint  he  peart,  though  ?  He  can  yoke  up  a 
pair  of  young  steers,  or  shuck  a  bushel  of  corn  equal  to 
any  grown  man  about  these  parts.  And  he's  only  fifteen 
coiue  harvest,  too !  He's  just  afraid  of  nothing.  He'll  go 
fast  enough." 

"  That  is  if  your  father  will  let  him." 

"  Yes,  if  dad  '11  let  him.  And  we  can  put  in  my  white 
mare  agin  your  Old  Jim.  But  my  white  mare  will  kick 
your  Old  Jim  all  to  pieces,  I  allow ;  "  and  Hiram  grinned 
at  what  he  thought  was  the  great  contrast  between  the  twc 
horses. 

Arthur  was  very  much  elated  at  the  prospect  of  rein 
forcements  to  the  party,  though  he  could  not  regard  Tom 
Fender  as  a  desirable  recruit.  Tom  was  an  awkward, 
loutish  lad,  disposed  to  rough  ways,  and  holding  very  con 
temptuous  views  of  the  manners  of  the  Stevens  family, 
whom  he  called  "  stuck-up  Boston  folks."  Arthur  had  felt 
obliged  to  challenge  Tom  to  open  combat  on  one  occasion, 
when  that  young  gentleman,  secure  behind  Old  Fender's 
corn-crib,  bawled  out  "mackerel-catchers!"  at  Arthur 
and  his  brothers  as  they  were  jogging  along  to  church  one 
Sunday  morning.  The  consequence  was  that  both  boy» 
woreblack-and-blue  eyes  after  that  encounter,  and  suffered 


GREAT  PREPARATIONS.  15 

some  family  discipline  besides.  They  had  since  been  on 
very  distant  terms  of  acquaintance. 

"  1  don't  care.  Hi  Fender  is  a  downright  good  fellow," 
said  Arthur,  when  Barnard  opened  his  eyes  at  the  informa 
tion  that  the  two  Fender  boys  might  be  secured  for  their 
party. 

"  Yes,  but  how  about  Tom?" 

Arthur  hesitated.  "  Well,  I  want  to  get  off  across  the 
plains.  That's  a  fact.  I  think  I  could  get  along  witb 
Tom,  if  you  can.  He  is  real  smart  with  cattle  and  horses, 
you  know." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  for  Tom,"  said  Barnard,  disdainfully. 
"  He's  only  a  little  chap,  smaller  than  you,  and  he  won't 
worry  me.  Besides,  his  brother  Hi  is  a  mighty  good  fellow, 
even  if  he  is  rough.  He  is  pretty  close,  I  know,  but  we 
sha'n't  quarrel  about  that.  We've  all  got  to  be  economical, 
if  we  are  to  get  across  to  California." 

So  it  was  agreed,  and  when  word  came  up  the  road  that 
Mr.  Fender  had  consented  that  his  boys  should  go,  there 
was  great  excitement  in  the  Stevens  house.  It  really 
seemed  as  if  the  boys  were  going  to  California.  They  had 
insensibly  glided  into  the  whole  arrangement  without  taking 
any  family  vote  on  it.  Neither  father  nor  mother  had 
once  consented  or  refused  that  the  boys  should  go  with  so 
much  of  an  outfit  as  they  might  pick  up. 

"  Oh,  father,"  said  Mrs.  Stevens,  "  it  is  heart-  break 
ing  to  think  of  those  boys  going  off  alone  into  the 
wilderness.  I'm  sure  I  shall  never  see  them  again,  if 
they  go." 

"  Well,  mother,  I  should  like  to  keep  them  on  the  place ; 
but  they  are  getting  restive,  and  I  don't  much  blame  them. 
They've  got  the  gold  fever  pretty  bad ;  and  if  I  was  as 
young  as  they,  I  don't  know  but  what  I'd  go  myself.  It  s 


H  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

pretty  hard  pickings  here."     Farmer  Stevens  had  ti  roving 
disposition,  which  lie  had  not  quite  outgrown. 

"  But,"  remonstrated  the  mother,  "  they  haven't  mone^ 
enough  to  give  them  a  good  outfit.  It  would  be  a  frightful 
thing  to  let  those  thoughtless  boys  go  out  on  the  great 
plains  without  food  and  other  things  sufficient  to  take  them 
through." 

"  Now,  mother,  I've  been  thinking  that  we  might  sell 
the  wood  off  the  lower  half  of  the  woodlot  down  by  the 
marsh.  Page  has  offered  me  one  hundred  dollars  for  the 
cut.  That,  with  what  the  Fenders  put  in  and  what  we 
have  on  the  place,  would  give  the  boys  a  tolerable  fit-out." 

That  wood-lot  was  the  special  pride  of  the  family. 
"'  Timber,"  as  every  species  of  tree  was  called  in  those 
parts,  was  scarce.  Wood  was  dear,  and  in  some  seasons  the 
prairie  farmers  used  corn  for  fuel,  it  was  so  much  cheaper 
than  wood ;  and  it  cost  a  great  deal  to  get  the  grain  to 
market.  It  was  a  great  sacrifice  to  cut  down  those  maples 
and  sell  them  for  fire-wood.  But  Farmer  Stevens,  poring 
over  maps,  estimates  of  provisions,  and  California  news, 
with  his  boys,  had  been  secretly  fired  with  the  gold  fever. 
He  could  not  go  ;  but  he  was  willing  to  give  up  the  stand 
ing  timber  in  order  that  Barnard  and  Arthur  should  have 
a  good  outfit.  It  cost  him  a  struggle.  But,  old  as  he  was» 
he  sympathized  with  the  boys  in  their  adventurous  ambi 
tion.  He  was  not  so  sanguine  about  the  gold  of  California 
holding  out  long.  But  it  was  there  now.  He  had  seen 
and  handled  Josh  Gates'  pile  of  dust ;  and  Solomon  Book- 
Btaver,  who  went  to  the  Columbia  River,  five  years  before, 
had  j  ust  come  back  from  California  and  had  fired  the  entire 
population  of  Lee  Centre  with  his  display  of  golden  nug 
gets,  or  chispas,  as  Sol  called  them. 

When  the  father's  determination  to  sell  the  wood  off  hii 


r«  *  m 

«ALl  l"  .  I       "  Jv^-", 

f£^ 


GREAT  PREPARATIONS.  1] 

wood-lot  was  made  known  the  next  day,  in  family  council, 
Barnard's  face  glowed,  and  Sam  said :  "  Well,  I  swan  to 
man  !  "  Arthur  dashed  out  by  the  back  door,  turned  five 
or  six  "  flip-flaps  "  to  calm  himself,  came  back,  and,  putting 
his  arm  about  his  father's  neck,  whispered  in  his  eai 
"  You  are  the  best  old  father  a  boy  ever  had  ! " 

So  it  was  finally  settled  that  the  boys  should  go  to  Cali 
fornia,  across  the  plains,  the  party  consisting  of  Barnard 
and  Arthur  Stevens,  and  Hiram  and  Thomas  Fender. 

Great  were  the  preparations.  The  provisions  available 
on  the  two  farms  were  laid  under  contribution.  The  tent, 
a  marvel  of  comfort  and  lightness,  was  made  and  set  up 
before  the  house,  to  the  great  curiosity  of  the  passing 
neighbors,  who  stopped  their  teams,  and  asked,  "  Gwino 
toCaliforny?" 

In  those  days,  groceries  and  clothing  were  cheaper  than 
now,  and,  with  the  cash  which  the  party  had  collected, 
they  laid  in  a  very  fair  supply,  and  had  a  little  money  left 
to  use  when  absolutely  necessary  on  the  journey.  The 
young  fellows  hugely  enjoyed  getting  ready.  The  woolen 
shirts  and  jean  overalls,  wide  bats  and  leather  belts,  which 
were  to  be  their  uniform,  were  put  on  with  solid  satisfac 
tion.  Tom  swaggered  around  with  a  seven-barreled  Colt's 
revolver,  nearly  as  big  as  himself,  slung  on  Ids  hip. 
Those  delightful  days  of  packing  flew  quickly.  The 
wagon  was  crammed  full  to  the  ash  bows  which  supported 
the  canvas  cover.  A  sheet-iron  camp-stove  was  tied  ou 
behind.  Water-pail  and  tar-bucket  dangled  underneath. 
Thus  equipped,  one  fine  May  morning,  the  gold  hunters 
drove  away.  Old  Jim  and  White  Jenny  trotted  gayh 
down  the  road,  their  faces  turned  towards  the  West. 

Father  and  mother  stood  at  the  gate.  Hi  Fender  drove 
the  wagon,  the  rest  of  the  party  trudging  along  by  the  side 


18  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

Hubert,  who  had  come  over  from  town  to  see  the  depar 
ture,  with  Sam  and  Oliver,  accompanied  the  young  adven 
turers  to  the  top  of  the  divide,  where  they  left  them. 

And  so  they  were  off.  Behind  them  was  home.  Before 
them  an  unknown  sea  of  privation,  danger,  want  and  ad 
venture.  The  wagon  disappeared  over  the  ridge.  The 
boja  were  gone. 


CAMPING  OUT.  19 


CHAPTER  IIL 

CAMPING   OUT. 

IOWA  was  not  a  thickly  settled  State  in  those  days,  and 
a  journey  across  it  was  not  so  very  different  from  the  pro 
gress  of  a  caravan  across  the  continent.  But  there  were 
farm-houses  along  the  road  where  the  emigrants  could 
procure  milk,  fresh  vegetables,  and  bread.  They  had 
little  money,  and  only  bought  such  things  as  would  help 
them  to  economize  their  stock  of  provisions.  By  and  by 
they  would  be  out  of  the  reach  of  all  other  supplies. 
Camping  out  was,  at  first,  great  fun.  Their  tent  was  new, 
fresh  and  clean.  It  was  big  enough  for  six  people,  and  a 
man  could  stand  upright  in  the  middle,  where  the  ridge 
pole  sustained  the  roof.  This  roof  was  in  the  shape  of 
the  letter  Y  turned  upside  down,  thus:  _A^.  But  about  two 
feet  from  the  ground  the  canvas  came  straight  down  and 
was  fastened  by  wooden  pins  driven  in.  The  main  body 
of  the  tent  was  kept  up  by  ropes,  or  stays,  secured  at  the 
lower  edge  of  the  roof  and  stretched  out  to  large  woodec 
pins  driven  into  the  ground  two  or  three  feet  off.  Then, 
guy  roves,  extending  from  each  end  of  the  ridge-pole  and 
made  last  to  other  stakes,  kept  the  whole  concern  steady 
when  the  wind  blew.  So  the  house  of  this  migrating 
party  was  dry  and  strong  enough  for  most  occasions,  and 
it  was  easily  packed  in  a  small  space.  When  the  tent  was 
get  up  at  the  end  of  a  day's  march,  the  two  upright  poles 
were  held  up,  with  the  ridge-pole  laid  on  top  and  secured 


20  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

at  each  end  by  an  iron  pin,  which  passed  thi  ough  a  hole 
at  each  end  of  the  pole.  Two  boys  held  this  frail  house- 
frame  together  while  another  threw  the  canvas  over  it  and 
fastened  it  in  two  or  three  places  to  keep  it  from  tumbling 
over.  Then  all  hands  stretched  out  the  ropes,  pinned  the 
cloth  at  the  bottom,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  the  house  was 
ready  for  the  night.  "While  travelling,  the  tent,  with  it8 
ropes  and  pins,  was  stuffed  into  a  stout  sack.  The  door 
had  no  hinges,  nor  name-plate,  nor  door-bell ;  it  was  a  slit 
in  the  canvas  and  was  fastened  with  strings,  instead  of  lock 
and  key.  Under  shelter  of  tills  the  emigrants  spread  their 
blankets  and  buffalo  robes,  and  slept  soundly  and  well. 

But  the  cooking  was  a  dreadful  burden.  Barnard  had 
taken  some  lessons  in  bread-making  from  his  mother  before 
starting,  and  he  made  the  first  batch  of  bread.  No,  it  was 
not  exactly  bread,  either.  First,  he  carefully  put  some 
dour,  salt  and  yeast  powder  into  a  pan  and  mixed  them 
thoroughly  with  a  big  spoon,  the  others  looking  on  with 
admiration.  Then  he  poured  in  boiling  water  until  he  had 
a  thick  paste,  which  he  mixed  round  and  round  as  before. 
It  was  fearfully  sticky,  but  Barney  bravely  put  his  hands 
into  it  and  attempted  to  mould  the  mass  into  biscuits.  It 
would  not  be  moulded ;  such  obstinate  dough  was  never 
before  seen.  When  poor  Barney  tried  to  pick  it  off  from 
one  hand  it  would  stick  to  another.  lie  rubbed  more  flour 
in  to  make  it  dryer,  and  then  the  lumps  of  dough  all  wasted 
away  into  "  chicken  feed,"  as  11  iram  satirically  called  it, 
and  there  was  no  consistence  to  it,  and  when  they  added 
water  to  it  the  stuff  became  again  just  like  glue. 

"  You  want  to  pat  the  cakes  round  and  round  in  you? 
hands,  so,"  said  Arthur.  "That's  the  way  mother  does.'' 

"Pat  'em  yourself,  if  you  know  so  much  about  it,v  said 
Barnard  angrily  ;  and  he  sat  down  in  the  grass,  and  tried 


CAMPING  OUT.  21 

to  scratch  his  bothered  head  with  his  elbows,  his  handa 
being  helpless  wads  of  dough.  Arthur,  rolling  up  his 
sleeves,  dipped  into  the  pan  and  succeeded  in  sticking  his 
lingers  together  so  fast  that  each  hand  looked  like  a  ver\ 
big  and  very  badly  shaped  duck's  foot — web-fingered,  in 
fact. 

"  Hang  the  bread ! "  he  exclaimed  ;  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  rolled  over  in  the  grass  roaring  at  the  comical  figure 
he  cut.  He  was  daubed  with  dough  up  to  the  elbows  and 
unable  to  use  his  hands ;  a  mosquito  had  lighted  on  his 
face,  and,  involuntarily  slapping  at  him,  Arthur  had  left  a 
huge  blotch  of  paste  on  his  forehead,  completely  closing 
his  left  eye.  Poor  Arthur  rested  his  helpless  paws  on  the 
edge  of  the  pan  and  said,  "  I  give  it  up." 

"  Oh,  dump  her  into  the  baking-pan  and  let  her  flicker !  " 
said  Hiram,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  his  breath  again.  "  We 
don't  care  for  biscuits ;  it's  the  bread  we  want.  This  ia 
camping  out,  boys,  you  know." 

So  the  mass  was  tumbled  into  the  baking-pan  and  put 
into  the  oven  of  their  handy  little  sheet-iron  camp-stove. 
For  a  table  they  had  a  wide,  short  piece  of  pine  board, 
which,  laid  across  a  couple  of  mining-pans  turned  bottom 
op,  answered  as  well  as  "  real  mahogany,"  as  Arthur  said. 
On  this  occasion,  however,  the  tin  plates  and  cups,  the 
smoking  coffee-pot,  and  even  the  fried  meat,  we^e  on  the 
board  long  before  that  obstinate  bread  showed  signs  of  be 
ing  done.  It  would  not  rise  up  light  "  like  mother's,"  and 
^*hen  a  straw  was  run  cautiously  into  it  the  inside  seemed 
as  law  as  ever.  An  hour's  baking  seemed  to  make  no 
impression  on  it,  and  the  boys  finally  supplied  its  place 
with  dry  crackers  and  supped  as  merrily  as  if  they  had  not 
made  their  first  great  failure. 

They  tiled  to  throw  a-way  the  provoking  mess  of 


22  THE  SOY  EMIGRANTS. 

that  would  not  bake,  but  it  stuck  in  the  pan  as  obstinately 
as  it  had  refused  to  be  cooked.  They  scraped  away  at  it 
with  all  sorts  of  tools,  but  the  stuff,  which  now  resembled  a 
small  bed  of  mortar,  adhered  to  the  pan  with  determination 

"  Did  you  grease  that  pan  ?  "  demanded  Arthur. 

"  No,"  said  Barney,  with  a  sudden  flush.  "  Who  ever 
heard  of  such  a  thing." 

There  was  another  shout  of  laughter,  for  everybody  at 
once  recollected  that  the  pan  should  have  had  flour,  or 
some  kind  of  grease,  put  in  it  to  keep  the  dough  from 
sticking.  While  they  laughed,  a  farm-wagon,  in  which 
rode  an  old  man  and  a  young  woman,  came  jogging  along 
the  road  by  which  they  were  camped.  The  girl  wore  a 
faded  red  calico  frock  which  hung  straight  down  from  her 
waist  to  her  bare  brown  feet.  A  huge  gingham  sun-bonnet 
with  a  cape  protected  her  head  and  shoulders. 

Arthur  ran  down  to  the  edge  of  the  road,  and  heard  the 
old  man  say,  "  Them's  Calif orny  emigrants."  It  was  the 
first  time  the  boy  had  ever  heard  himself  called  an  emi 
grant,  and  he  did  not  like  it.  But  suddenly  remembering 
that  he  was  one,  he  checked  his  rising  glow  of  indignation 
and  said,  "  Say,  miss,  will  you  tell  us  what's  the  matter 
with  this  bread  ?  " 

The  girl  looked  at  her  father,  who  looked  at  the  queer 
group  by  the  tent,  then  at  Arthur's  flushed  and  honest 
face,  and  said,  "  Go,  Nance."  So  Nance,  declining  Arthur's 
proffered  hand,  leaped  to  the  ground,  and  wading  through 
the  grass,  went  up  and  cast  a  critical  glance  at  the  objeo- 
tioiiable  dough. 

"  How  d'ye  make  this  yere  ? "  she  asked,  pointing  her 
elbow  at  the  bread.  Barnard  described  the  process  by 
which  he  had  compounded  that  famous  preparation  of  floui 
and  other  things. 


CAMPING  OUT.  23 

"  What  sort  of  water  did  you  pat  into  it  ? "  she  next 

demanded. 

u  Why,  good  spring  water,  of  course  ?  "  was  the  reply. 

"Cold  or  hot?" 

"  Oh,  boiling  hot,  to  be  sure." 

The  girl  suddenly  clasped  her  hands  to  her  stomach,  sat 
down  in  the  grass  and  doubled  herself  up  like  a  jackknife. 
Then,  sitting  up  again,  she  pushed  back  her  sun-bonnet, 
and,  as  if  addressing  herself  to  the  camp-stove,  she  said : 

"My  goodness  gracious  me!  if  these  ornery  fellers 
haven't  been  and  gone  and  scalded  their  flour  I  Oh,  uiy  I 
Oh,  my !  I'm  j  ust  fit  to  bust ! "  And  she  doubled  herself 
up  again. 

"  So  we  should  not  have  scalded  the  bread,  Miss  Sun- 
bonnet,  should  we  ? "  asked  Barnard,  who  felt  ridiculed 
and  was  somewhat  nettled. 

The  girl  wiped  her  eyes  on  her  sleeve  and  said : 
"  Bread  !  it  ain't  bread  ;  it's  flour  paste." 

Recovering  herself,  Nance  good-naturedly  explained 
that  cold  water  or  milk  should  be  used  in  mixing  the 
flour;  and,  adding  some  other  general  instructions,  she 
strode  off  through  the  grass  to  the  wagon.  As  she  climbed 
up  and  rode  away  the  boys  saw  her  double  herself  up  once 
more,  and  they  thought  she  said,  "  Scalded  his  flour,  the 
ornery  critter  1" 

Though  this  was  a  severe  lesson  in  housekeeping,  it  was 
not  the  only  one  of  their  mortifying  failures.  Even  when 
they  learned  to  make  bread  with  cold  water,  it  was  not 
imtii  they  had  spoiled  much  good  flour  that  they  were 
ftble  to  make  bread  that  was  even  eatable.  And  it  was 
not  in  Iowa  that  they  succeeded  well  enough  to  satisfy 
themselves.  After  they  had  crossed  the  Missouri,  long 
after,  and  were  well  out  in  Nebraska,  Arthur  made  the 


34  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

first  bread  of  which  the  others  proudly  said  that  it  \vaa 
"  good  enough  for  anybody." 

Cooking  beans  was  another  perplexity.  They  baked 
them  dry  with  a  piece  of  pork,  and  when  they  were 
"  done,"  they  rolled  out  of  the  baking  kettle  like  gravel 
stones,  harder  than  when  they  went  into  it.  Then,  when 
they  discovered  that  the  beans  should  have  been  soaked 
and  boiled,  or  parboiled,  before  baking,  they  took  two 
quarts  and  soaked  and  boiled  them.  The  beans  swelled 
and  swelled  until  the  big  camp  kettle  overflowed.  They 
were  put  into  other  dishes,  but  would  not  stop  swelling, 
and  before  those  beans  were  ready  to  bake  every  dish  in 
camp  was  full  and  overflowing.  A  satirical  wood-chopper, 
loafing  up  to  their  camp  in  the  midst  of  the  crisis,  in 
quisitively  asked :  "  Be  you  fellows  peddlin'  beans  across 
to  Calif  orny  ? " 

But,  notwithstanding  all  these  drawbacks,  the  boys 
began  to  enjoy  themselves  very  much.  Some  days  it  was 
very  hot  and  tedious  tramping  along  in  the  dusty  road, 
especially  when  they  reflected  that  they  were  so  far  from 
the  end  of  their  journey.  Even  though  days  of  travel 
were  behind  them,  before  them  the  road  stretched  out  for 
more  than  a  thousand  miles.  They  seemed  to  have  been 
on  the  journey  a  good  while,  but  they  knew  that  months 
must  pass  before  they  could  reach  the  end  of  it.  "  This  is 
awful  slow  work,"  Barney  would  say,  when  they  reckoned 
up  the  day's  progress.  "  Only  twenty-one  miles  to-day, 
and  a  couple  of  thousand,  more  or  less,  to  get  over." 

Hiram,  however,  a  patient  and  plodding  fellow,  "  al 
lowed"  that  it  took  so  many  steps  less  for  next  day's  jour 
ney,  because  those  of  to-day  had  been  taken,  one  by  one 
.Ajid  Arthur  used  to  look  back  at  their  camping-place 
when  they  had  moved  on  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  blithely 


VAMPING  OUT.  25 

say :  "  Now  I  am  two  miles  nearer  California  than  I  wae 
this  morning.'5 

"  Two  miles  ain't  much,  especially  when  a  chap  has  got 
the  dishes  to  wash  at  the  end  of  every  twenty  miles,"  says 
Tom.,  surlily.  Washing  dishes  was  a  very,  disagreeable 
part  of  camp  duty.  It  was  a  continual  subject  of  conten* 
lion.  Nobody  wanted  to  wash  dishes.  To  be  sure,  the 
whole  camp  equipage  did  not  amount  to  more  than  four 
or  five  tin  plates  and  as  many  cups  and  knives  and  forks. 
An  active  kitchen-maid  would  have  disposed  of  the  whole 
lot  in  a  few  minutes.  But  the  boys  were  not  kitchen- 
maids,  and,  what  was  more,  they  would  not  appear  as 
though  they  were.  Hiram  thought  that  as  long  as  he  was 
responsible  for  fire-wood  and  water,  dish-washing  should 
not  be  included  in  his  duties.  Barnard  usually  drove  the 
team,  and  had  general  charge  of  that  important  branch  of 
the  service.  Tom  and  Arthur  attended  to  pitching  the 
tent  at  night,  unloading  the  wagon  of  things  needed  dur 
ing  camping  time,  and  taking  down  the  tent,  packing  up 
and  collecting  camp  furniture  in  the  morning  preparatory 
to  a  start.  All  hands,  with  equal  unsuccess,  tried  the 
cooking ;  and  all  hands,  though  ready  to  find  fault  with 
each  other's  cooking,  declared  that  they  would  do  anything 
but  cook — unless  it  was  to  wash  dishes. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  hire  a  girl  to  go  along  and 
wash  dishes,  Arty,"  said  Barnard,  reproachfully. 

"  I  don't  care,  Barney ;  I  didn't  ship  to  wash  dishes, 
and  I  won't ;  so  there,"  was  Arthur's  invariable  replyt 
which  Barnard  as  invariably  met  with  u  Who  did  ?  " 

Obviously  nobody  did.     So  the  dishes  went  unwashed, 

sometimes  for  days  together.    One  morning,  Hiram,  taking 

up  his  plate,  said :  "  I  wonder  what  was  in  this  yere  plate 

last  ?     There's  bacon  fat  and  corn-dodger  crumbe,  boiled 

2 


26  THE  BO  7  3MIGRANT& 

rice,  molasses  and  I  allow  that  there  gray  streak  in  thai 
nor'-nor'-west  corner  is  chicken.  Tell  yer  what,  boys,  I 
don't  allow  that  I'm  agoin'  to  drive  horses,  chop  wood,  or 
Ing  water  for  fellers  that  won't  wash  dishes  for  decency's 
Bake.  I'm  willin'  to  do  my  share  of  the  cookin',  turn  and 
turn  about.  You  two  boys  ought  to  wash  the  dishes  regu 
lar.  I'm  the  oldest  feller  in  this  yere  camp,  and  if  you, 
Tom  and  Arthur,  don't  find  some  way  of  doin'  up  those 
yere  dishes  between  ye,  before  we  git  to  the  Bluffs,  ye 
may  as  well  make  up  yer  minds  to  go  back  from  there." 

This  was  a  long  speech  from  Hiram,  who  always  meant 
what  he  said.  Barnard  supported  him  in  this  decision  ; 
and  the  younger  boys,  though  feeling  very  much  "  put 
upon,'1  agreed  to  take  turns  at  playing  house-maid. 

The  first  experiment  was  attended  by  a  serious  disaster. 
They  drew  lots  for  the  first  week's  duty,  and  Arthur  was 
"  stuck,"  as  he  expressed  it,  for  the  service.  Sitting  some 
what  morosely  on  the  ground,  one  evening,  at  work  on  this 
unwelcome  job  of  dish-washing,  he  turned  the  only  crock 
ery  plate  of  the  establishment  about  in  his  hands,  wiping 
it  and  scolding  to  himseF.  Torn,  who  was  not  a  little 
elated  that  he  was  exempt  from  this  service,  at  least  for 
one  week,  stood  by,  and  aggravatingly  pointing  with  his 
foot  at  the  plate,  said : 

"  Be  careful  of  that  yere  crockery,  Arty,  it's  Hi's  favor 
ite  dish.  He'll  dress  ye  down  if  ye  smash  it." 

Arthur,  with  a  gust  of  rage,  cracked  Tom  over  his  too 
with  the  plate,  breaking  it  into  pieces. 

"  There,  now !     I—" 

But  before  Tom  could  say  any  further,  Hiram,  who  had 
watched  the  whole  proceeding,  seized  both  boys  by  the 
collar  and  hustled  them  towards  a  creek  which  flowed  near 
camp. 


VAMPING  OUT.  2? 

"  Where  are  you  going  with  those  boys  ? "  shouted  Bar 
navd,  amazed  and  laughing  as  he  saw  stout  Hiram,  wrest 
ling  with  the  two  squirming  boys. 

"  I'm  going  to  drown  'em,  like  I  would  a  pair  of  qrarrel 
some  cats,"  said  Hiram,  manfully  struggling  with  the 
youngsters. 

"No  you  don't,  though,"  said  Tom,  dexterously  twisting 
one  of  his  legs  in  between  Hiram's  feet.  The  young  man 
staggered  a  little,  and,  in  his  effort  to  save  himeclf  from 
falling  into  the  creek,  let  both  boys  go  loose.  They  stood 
a  little  way  off,  looking  defiantly  at  each  other  and  at 
Hiram. 

"  Your  family  government  does  not  seem  to  work  well/'' 
said  Barnard.  "  I  guess  we'll  have  to  send  the  boys  back 
from  Council  Bluffs.  They  never'll  go  through  thia 
way." 

Arthur,  who  still  held  in  his  hand  a  bit  of  the  plate  that 
had  been  the  innocent  cause  of  this  outburst,  said  : 

"Well,  Tom  pestered  me;  but  I'm  willing  to  try  it 
again.  Give  us  a  fair  trial,  Barney." 

Tom  was  sulky,  but  admitted  that  he  should  not  have 
provoked  Arthur. 

u  Tom,  I'll  tell  ye  what  I'll  do  with  you?  said  Hiram. 
"  If  ye  don't  behave  yerself,  I'll  take  away  yer  revolver 
and  put  you  on  the  first  boat  bound  down,  after  we  get  to 
the  Bluffs." 

"  That  will  be  binding  him  over  to  keep  the  pwi;;e,'* 
Aaid  Barnard. 

"No,"  added  Arthur,  opening  his  hand  and  shewing, 
with  a  blush,  the  fragment  of  Hiram's  pet  plate,  "  I'm 
going  to  keep  the  piece.' 

And  he  did. 


2$  THE  BOY  EMIQRA3T8. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  THE   JDMPING-OFF    PLACE." 

A  cirr  of  tents  covered  the  flat  banks  cf  the  Missouri, 
below  Council  Bluffs,  when  our  party  reached  the  river 
In  those  days,  Council  Bluffs  was  a  scattered  and  rongh 
looking  town,  about  four  miles  from  the  Missouri  River ; 
and,  where  its  edges  were  frayed  out  toward  the  south, 
was  a  long,  level  strip  of  land,  extending  to  the  broad 
sweep  of  the  stream.  Westward,  this  plain  was  dotted 
with  thousands  of  cattle,  belonging  to  emigrants;  and  in 
that  part  of  the  plain  nearest  the  town  were  the  carts  and 
wagons  of  those  whose  faces  were  now  turned  toward  Cali 
fornia.  It  was  a  novel  sight.  Here  were  men  mending 
wagons,  cooking  in  the  open  air,  repairing  their  tents  or 
clothes,  trading  off  some  part  of  their  outfit,  or  otherwise 
making  ready  for  the  final  start  across  the  plains. 

Looking  across  the  flat  bottom  land,  Arthur  could  barely 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Big  Muddy,  as  the  people  called 
the  Missouri  River.  A  fringe  of  low  trees  showed  where 
the  stream  flowed  by ;  and  occasionally  a  huge  three-story 
steamboat  went  gliding  down  in  the  distance,  looking  ex 
actly  as  if  it  were  moving  through  the  meadows.  Beyond, 

*  O  O  t/ 

the  western  side  of  the  river  was  somewhat  bluffy  and 
broken.  A  few  wooden  shanties  were  grouped  about  the 
ferry  landing, — a  huge  scow  being  the  ir.eans  of  transit, 
The  ferry  was  a  primitive  affair,  guided  by  a  rope  stretched 
across  the  stream.  On  cine  eminence  stood  a  weather 


«  TEE  JUMPING-  OFF  PL  A  CE.n  23 

beaten  structure,  partially  boarded  over.  This  was  de 
signed  to  be  the  capital  when  the  country  should  be 
erected  into  the  Territory  of  Nebraska.  The  groups  of 
e han ties  scattered  about  over  the  hills  had  no  name. 
Omaha  has  since  arisen  on  that  site.  Then,  however,  the 
whole  country  was  one  of  great  expectations. 

With  eyes  wide  open,  scanning  the  curious  sights  on 
every  side,  the  boys  drove  their  team  down  the  river  road, 
ill  searcli  of  a  good  camping-place.  Their  experience  in 
traveling  through  Iowa  had  taught  them  that  they  must 
find  a  dry,  smooth  spot  for  their  tent,  water  for  the  camp, 
and  grass  for  the  horses.  On  the  edge  of  this  strange  city 
of  tents  they  found  all  of  these,  and  there  they  encamped. 

But  they  were  not  allowed  to  do  this  unnoticed.  Al 
though  people  were  continually  going  and  coming, 
there  were  enough  idle  fellows  to  watch  the  new-comers 
and  make  remarks  upon  them. — "  Here's  more  candidates 
foi  California  fortunes."  "  Going  to  the  Pacific  with  that 
raw-boned  hoss?"  "  Oh,  get  out  of  that  wagon  and  walk 
to  the  digging."  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that 
gold-pan?"  "  Say,  sonny,  does  yer  mammy  know  you're 
out?"  These  were  some  of  the  rude  salutations  which 
greeted  the  party  as  they  drove  sturdily  down  through  the 
city  of  tents. 

Arthur's  eyes  snapped  a  little,  and  his  cheeks  burned  ; 
but  Hiram,  perched  in  the  wagon,  flung  back  the  rudo 
observations  with  cheerful  readiness.  One  kindly-faced 
man,  who  walked  along  beside  the  boys,  said : 

"You  mustn't  mind  these  chaps;  they're  rough,  but 
good-natured  ;  and  if  you  should  happen  to  get  into  diffi 
culty,  they  would  help  you  readily  enough." 

Their  new  acquaintance  showed  them  where  parties 
from  various  parts  of  the  Western  States  were  encamped ; 


30  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

and  they  pitched  their  tent  near  that  of  some  men  from 
Hancock  County,  Illinois,  and  soon  made  themselves  at 
home. 

They  felt  that  they  had  reached  "  the  jumping-  off  place." 
Beyond,  across  the  river,  was  nothing  but  that  vast  un 
broken  stretch  of  country  which  used  to  be  laid  down  in 
the  school  maps  as  "  Unexplored  Regions."  Even  now  it 
was  unexplored  except  by  a  few  people  who  had  gone 
over  to  Oregon,  Utah,  or  California.  Contradictory  reports 
about  the  value  of  the  gold  diggings  were  coining  into  thia 
canvas  city  of  emigrants.  The  very  day  that  they  arrived 
there  ran  a  rumor  through  the  camp  that  two  men  had 
just  come  in  from  California  with  very  discouraging  news. 
It  was  said  that  they,  had  come  through  in  twenty-eight 
days,  running  their  mules  all  the  way ;  had  had  narrow 
escapes  from  Indians,  and  had  got  so  far  back  on  their 
way  to  "  the  States,"  as  everybody  called  the  country  east 
of  the  Missouri. 

After  the  boys  had  settled  their  camp  for  the  night,  they 
went  out  and  hunted  up  these  bearers  of  ill  tidings.  Press 
ing  into  a  little  knot  of  men  near  the  camp  of  some  New 
Englanders,  who  had  fitted  out  at  Council  Bluffs,  they 
saw  a  rough,  bearded,  ragged  and  seedy-looking  man, 
sitting  on  a  wagon-tongue.  He  was  smoking  a  short  pipe 
with  great  enjoyment,  and  occasionally  he  dropped  a  word 
by  way  of  answer  to  the  questions  that  were  showered 
upon  him. 

"  Gold  !  no  !  "  he  replied,  with  great  scorn,  "  thar's  no 
gold  in  the  hull  country.  How  do  I  know  ?  Why,  I  war 
tbar  a  week  ;  that's  how  I  know." 

"  Where  were  you?  "  asked  one  of  the  bystanders. 

^  I  was  on  the  Tuba,  jest  whar  it  jines  into  the  Amen 
can.  Thai's  \vhar  I  war." 


"  THE  JUMP1NO-OFF  PLACE."  31 

u  But  I  did'nt  know  the  Yaba  emptied  into  the  Ameri 
can;  the  Yuba  is  further  north,"  said  Barnard,  irapul 
sively,  and  before  he  thought. 

"  Been  thar  ? "  growled  the  returned  Californian. 

"  No,"  said  Barnard,  with  a  blush. 

"  Wai,  I  have,  yon  bet  yer,"  rejoined  the  other.  "  And 
it's  no  use  o'  yer  talkiii',  men  ;  I  have  mined  it  more  nor  a 
sveek  in  them  diggins ;  never  got  so  much  as  a  color." 

"Did  you  hear  of  anybody  who  did  find  gold  ?"  some 
body  asked. 

"  Here  and  thar  war  a  man  who  said  as  how  he  had  seed 
some  other  feller  as  had  seed  another  who  had  heerd  tell 
on  some  other  chap  as  had  found  somethin'  that  looked 
like  gold.  I  don't  put  no  trust  into  any  on  'em." 

"  You  look  as  if  you'd  had  a  hard  time,"  said  a  sym 
pathizing  visitor. 

"  Misery  in  my  bones,  wust  way;  I  ain't  been  so  power 
ful  bad  in  my  life  afore.  Fever  'n  ager  wuss  than  in 
Arkansaw.  You  bet  yer." 

"  Why  did'nt  you  keep  on  down  the  Yuba,  prospecting  ? " 

"Keep  on?"  replied  the  veteran,  with  infinite  scorn. 
"  We  war  nigh  ont  of  grub.  No  gold  in  sight.  We'd 
rastled  with  our  luck  long  enough,  me  and  my  pard.  So 
we  jist  lit  out  'n  that  'tween  two  days.  Powerful  glad  we 
are  to  be  yar,  too,  you  bet  yer." 

"  You  look  it,"  said  one  of  the  emigrants,  who  seemed 
to  regard  this  dampening  report  as  a  sort  of  personal 
injury. 

Younkins,  for  this  was  the  name  of  the  returned  pros 
pector,  told  the  same  story  all  through  the  camps.  No  gold 
in  California,  but  much  sickness;  cholera,  fever  and  ague, 
and  a  plenty  of  men  glad  to  get  away,  if  they  could  only 
find  the  means  to  travel  with.  Some  of  the  emigrants  did 


32  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

not  belie  re  these  reports.  Some  said  :  "  Oh,  these  chaps 
are  discouraging  emigration  to  the  diggins.  They  want  it 
alt  themselves.  They  can't  fool  us  that  way."  But  others 
were  downright  discouraged. 

A  day  or  two  after,  four  men  crossed  the  river  from 
the  Nebraska  side,  driving  an  ox-team  with  a  shabby 
wagon.  They  had  gone  as  far  west  as  Fort  Laramie, 
where  they  heard  bad  news  and  had  turned  back.  The 
boys  sought  out  this  party,  and  heard  their  story.  They 
had  lost  a  comrade,  who  had  died  on  the  way  to  Laramie. 
They  were  gloomy,  disheartened,  and  out  of  spirits.  They 
overtook  people  coming  back.  Some  had  been  through  to 
California;  or  they  said  they  had.  Others  had  turned 
their  faces  homeward  after  hearing  the  reports  of  others. 

This  bad  news  had  its  effect  in  the  camps.  "  The  mines 
have  given  out,"  was  the  cry  around  many  of  the  camp- 
fires  ;  and  not  a  few  wagons  were  packed  up,  or  sold  out 
at  auction,  and  the  disheartened  owners  returned  to  "  the 
States,"  out  of  pocket  as  well  as  out  of  spirits.  In  a  few 
days  outfits  were  to  be  had  for  low  prices.  The  weekly 
newspaper  at  Council  Bluffs  vainly  tried  to  keep  up  the 
excitement.  Reports  from  California  were  discouraging. 
If  there  ever  had  been  any  gold  there,  it  was  exhausted. 
It  was  useless  to  say  that  there  never  was  any  of  the  pre 
cious  stuff  found  in  the  mines.  Many  of  the  emigrants  had 
seen  some  that  had  been  brought  to  their  own  homes. 
Arthur  and  Barney  had  touched  and  handled  Gates'  golden 
ore  But  the  mines  had  given  out,  and  that  was  the  end 
of  the  matter. 

"  I  don't  believe  any  such  yarn,"  said  Barnard,  stoutly 
w  I  don't  want  to  influence  the  rest  of  you  boys  ;  but  I'nz 
going  through.  For  one,  I  shall  not  turn  back." 

"Nor  1 1 "  said  Arthur,  with  a  burst  of  enthusiasm. 


••  THE  JUMPING- OFF  PLA  CE. '  33 

«  Nor  I,"  added  Tom. 

"  It's  Calif  orny  or  bust,  with  me,"  said  Hiram,  son' 
lentiously. 

So  they  were  agreed. 

But  things  looked  rather  blue  at  times ;  and  when  those 
who  had  turned  back  diove  slowly  up  the  road  and  disap 
peared  among  the  bluffs,  Arthur  locked  after  them  with 
some  misgivings,  and  with  a  touch  of  home-sickness  in  hia 
heart.  Then  he  turned  his  eyes  westward  where  the  sun 
dipped  below  the  western  hills.  As,  at  one  glance,  he  saw 
the  long  trail  stretching  over  the  unknown  land,  it  was  a 
mysterious  and  untried  way.  The  boy  hesitated  only  for  a 
moment,  and  stretching  out  his  arms  toward  the  setting 
sun,  said  to  himself,  "  I'm  bound  to  go  through  !  " 

After  all,  however,  there  were  very  few  who  turned 
back,  compared  with  the  number  remaining  at  the  Bluffs. 
And  every  steamboat  that  came  up  the  river  brought  fresh 
recruits  from  the  towns  and  cities  below.  These  had  only 
part  of  their  outfit  with  them ;  some  of  them  at  once 
bought  out  the  entire  equipment  of  those  who  were  return 
ing,  and  so  stepped  into  possession  of  all  that  was  needed 
to  take  them  through.  In  a  few  days  the  city  of  tents 
grew  a  great  deal ;  and,  on  the  western  side  of  the  Mis 
souri,  where  the  bottom  land  spread  out,  as  on  the  Iowa 
side,  there  was  a  considerable  encampment.  These,  like 
the  camps  across  the  river,  were  changing  all  the  while. 
Every  day  a  train  of  wagons  would  roll  out  over  the  hills, 
bound  for  California  at  last ;  and  new  additions  were  im 
mediately  made.  This  was  the  place  where  emigrants  tc 
California  found  what  was  yet  to  be  added  to  their  equip 
rnent.  Supplies  were  plenty,  and  sold  at  reasonable  prices. 
People  who,  like  our  boys,  had  traveled  across  the  countrj 

by  team,  had  used  some  of  th^ir  pro  visions  before  reaching 

2* 


34  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

the  Bluffs ;  and  their  brief  experience  in  camping  out  and 
traveling  showed  them  where  their  equipments  were  im 
perfect.  Council  Bluffs  was  a  busy  place  ;  everybody  had 
{something  to  sell ;  and  the  citizens  of  that  thriving  town 
strolled  among  the  canvas  tents  of  the  emigrants  with  calm 
satisfaction. 

There  was  much  hunting  to  and  fro  for  people  who  had 
come  across  the  country,  by  their  comrades  who  had  fol 
lowed  after  by  the  speedier  transit  of  railroad  and  steam 
boat.  Some  of  these  parties  were  never  made  up  again 
It  oftened  happened  that  those  who  arrived  first  grew 
tired  of  waiting  for  those  who  were  to  come  after.  Al 
though  there  was  much  delay  at  the  Bluffs,  everybody  was 
feverish  and  excited.  If  they  were  going  on  to  the  land 
of  gold,  they  were  in  a  hurry  to  start.  If  they  had  de 
cided  to  return,  they  had  no  time  to  waste  at  the  river.  So 
little  companies  broke  up,  some  going  on  and  some  turn 
ing  back.  Friends,  neighbors  and  families  were  thus 
dispersed,  never  to  meet  again.  And,  wandering  around 
from  camp  to  camp,  were  those  who  expected  to  find 
their  comrades,  but  who,  too  often,  found  that  they  had 
gone  on  before.  Some  of  these  belated  ones  were  dis 
heartened,  and  went  no  farther ;  but  most  of  them  joined 
themselves  to  other  parties  and  so  pushed  on  to  Cali 
fornia. 

Our  boys  began  to  think  that  their  two-horse  team  was 
hardly  heavy  enough  to  draw  their  wagon  across  the  con 
tinent.  They  saw  that  most  people  had  at  least  two  spare 
horses ;  and  many  more  oxen  than  horses  were  used  by 
the  emigrants. 

"  Oxen  is  the  things,  I  allow,  after  all,  boys."  said  Hi- 
ram,  who  had  studied  the  subject  carefully  while  coining 
through  Iowa.  "  Just  suppose  one  of  these  bosses  sheuW 


"  THE  J  UMP1NG-  OFF  PLA  CE»  3ft 

ap  and  die;  where'd  ye  be  then?    We'd  hare  to  haul 
through  with  one  hoss." 

"  But  suppose  we  were  chased  by  Indians,"  remonstrated 
A  rthur.  "  We  couldn't  get  away  with  oxen,  could  we  ? " 

"  Indians !  pshaw ! "  said  Hiram ;  "  there  ain't  no  In 
dians,  so  far  as  heerd  from.  And  if  there  were,  bosses 
won't  save  us,  you  may  bet  on  that." 

"  We  might  trade  off  our  horses  for  oxen,"  said  Barn 
ard,  "  but  we  couldn't  expect  to  get  two  yoke  of  oxen  for 
a  pair  of  horses ;  and  unless  we  had  two  yoke  we  should 
be  no  better  off  than  we  are  now." 

"  Cattle  are  cheap,"  explained  Hiram.  "We  can  buy  a 
yoke  for  fifty  or  sixty  dollars.  Old  Jim  is  worth  that 
much  money,  and  my  Jenny  could  sell  for  more  than  the 
cost  of  another  yoke.  The  farmers  around  here  are  bring 
ing  in  their  cattle." 

"  Golly !  how  it  rains,"  broke  in  Tom,  who  had  been 
trying  to  keep  the  beating  current  out  of  the  tent.  The 
water  flowed  in  under  the  edge  of  the  canvas  from  the 
sloping  ground  in  the  rear.  Arthur  jumped  up  in  con 
sternation.  He  had  been  sitting  in  a  little  pool  of  water. 

"  All  hands  out  to  dig  trenches,"  shouted  Barnard.  The 
night  was  pitch  dark,  and  the  boys  seized  their  lantern, 
shovels  and  ax,  and  sallied  out  to  dig  a  narrow  ditch  about 
the  tent.  The  water  poured  into  this,  and  so  was  carried 
off  on  each  side,  and  their  canvas-house  stood  on  a  little 
island  of  its  owe.  But  the  rain  fell  in  torrents,  and  the 
tent  flapped  wildly  in  the  wind. 

"  Tell  you  what,  fellerE,"  said  Hiram,  shaking  the  water 
from  him,  as  they  crouched  inside  again,  "  this  ain't  whai 
it's  cracked  up  to  be.  Camping  in  a  rain-storm  ain't  grea> 
fun;  hey,  Arty?" 

Arthur  was  just  going  tc  say  that  they  might  be  woree 


30  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

off  before  they  got  across  the  plains,  when  a  pair  of  very 
thin  hands  were  thrust  in  at  the  opening  of  the  tent,  now 
tied  together  for  the  night,  and  a  thin  voice  said,  "  Please 
may  I  come  in  \ " 

"  Sartin,  sartin,"  said  Hiram  heartily.  "  Walk  in  and 
make  yourself  to  hum,  whosumever  you  be." 

Arthur  unfastened  the  tent  curtain,  and  a  boyish  figure, 
elender  and  woe-begone,  struggled  into  the  group. 

The  stranger  might  have  been  about  thirteen  years  old. 
lie  looked  as  if  he  had  lived  about  forty  years.  He  wore 
a  pair  of  trousers  made  of  striped  jean,  resembling  bed- 
ticking  ;  and  his  jacket  of  linsey-woolsey  homespun,  and 
died  with  butternut  juice,  was  much  too  short  at  the  wrists. 
His  face  was  pale,  but  sweet  and  pleasant,  and  he  had 
mild  blue  eyes.  Under  his  arm  he  carried  a  large  bundle, 
and  on  his  head  he  wore  a  very  seedy  coon-skin  cap,  wet 
and  dripping  with  the  rain.  He  put  his  bundle  carefully 
on  the  ground,  and  tied  the  tent  together  again ;  then, 
turning  about,  he  surveyed  the  little  party  in  the  tent  with 
mild  inquiry,  but  without  a  word. 

"What  mought yer  name  be?"  asked  Hiram,  when  no 
body  else  had  broken  silence. 

"  Johnny." 

Hiram  paused.  He  felt  that  the  boy's  name  was  not, 
after  all,  of  much  consequence  to  anybody ;  but  to  ask  for 
it  was  one  way  to  begin  a  conversation.  And  he  had  not 
got  far.  "  Johnny  "  was  rather  vague. 

"Johnny  what?"  spoke  up  Tom. 
'    "  That's  all.     Only  just  Johnny,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  the  boj  about  his  name,"  broke  in 
Barnard.  "Where  are  your  folks?  Are  you  going  to 
California?" 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  to  Californy  ;  and  I  don't  know  when 


«  THE  JUMPINO-OFF  PLAVE"  37 

my  folks  are.  Perhaps  you've  seen  'em,  sir.  There's  a 
tall  one  with  red  hair,  and  a  short  one  with  harelip,  and 
another  one  with  a  game  leg.  Oh,  sir,  haven't  you  seen 
'em  nowhere  ? "  and  the  poor  boy's  eyes  filled  with  tears 
as  lie  spoke. 

"  A  game  leg  ? "  repeated  Hiram.  "  Boys,  don't  you 
remember  that  thar  mean  skunk  as  stele  Josh  Davis's  ox- 
chain  over  on  the  west  side  ?  He  mought  have  been  the 
chap.  Did  he  wear  a  red  shirt,  with  a  blue  handkercLer 
around  his  neck  \ "  he  asked  of  Johnny. 

"Yes,"  said  the  boy;  "and  his  name  was  Bunce — • 
Bill  Bunce — and  we  are  from  Yermillion  County,  Illi 
nois." 

"  I  allow  he  and  his  pardners  have  gone  on  ahead,"  said 
Hiram. 

"  I  was  over  on  the  Omaha  side  when  they  drove  out," 
added  Tom  ;  and  they  had  a  big  yaller  dog  named  Pete 
with  them.  Golly!  but  that  dog  was  a  master-hand  to 
hunt  chipmunks  !  How  he  would " 

"  Oh,  you  talk  too  much  with  your  mouth,"  interrupted 
Hiram,  impatiently.  Johnny  showed  signs  of  breaking 
into  tears.  He  sat  down  and  told  his  story.  He  had  lived 
in  Vermillion  County  with  a  man  who  was  called  a  doctor, 
he  said.  Evidently  he  had  been  hardly  used,  and  had 
never  known  father  or  mother.  A  drudge  in  a  country 
doctor's  house,  he  had  been  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  world 
outside,  of  his  own  friends,  and  of  his  father  and  mother. 
He  bad  never  even  been  told  his  own  name.  How  did  he 
get  here  ?  That  was  simple  enough.  Three  or  four  oi 
the  doctor's  neighbors  were  going  to  California.  They 
offered  to  take  the  boy  along.  He  was  too  glad  to  get 
away  from  the  brutal  and  quick-tempered  doctor,  to  wait 
for  a  second  hint.  They  had  journeyed  on  together  to 


38  TEE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

Quincy,  on  the  Mississippi,  where  the  men  left  Johnny  to 
follow  them  by  steamer,  while  they  went  "another  way," 
as  they  said.  They  promised  to  write  to  him  when  to  start 
for  Council  Bluffs.  He  waited  several  weeks  at  the  mis 
erable  little  boarding-house  where  they  had  lodged  him. 
Alarmed  at  the  long  delay,  he  had  started  off  by  himself, 
and  here  he  was. 

"  Probably  their  letters  miscarried,"  said  Arthur,  with 
pity  in  his  eyes. 

"  More  likely  they  never  wrote,"  added  his  wiser  brother. 

The  youngster  looked  distressed,  but  spoke  up  cheer 
fully  :  "  Perhaps  they  haven't  gone.  They  said  they  would 
wait  here  for  me." 

But  Hiram  was  sure  about  "  the  man  with  the  game 
leg  ;  "  he  was  not  positive  as  to  the  others.  Both  Arthur 
and  Tom  remembered  the  lame  man  with  the  big  yellow 
dog,  especially  the  dog ;  and  nobody  was  sure  whether  the 
tall  man  with  him  had  red  hair. 

"  Well,  you  can  can  bunk  down  with  us  to-night,"  said 
Hiram,  "  and  in  the  morning  we'll  take  a  hunt  through 
the  camps,  and  if  your  fellows  haven't  lighted  out,  we'll 
find  'em." 

The  next  morning  broke  fair  and  bright.  The  rain  had 
ceased  in  the  night,  and  great  drops  were  shining  on  the 
grass  and  on  the  bushes  that  bordered  the  plain.  With  a 
bound  of  exhilaration,  Arthur  sprang  out  of  his  damp 
blankets  and  began  to  make  ready  for  breakfast.  Johnny 
oiep1.  out  into  the  sunshine,  and,  having  followed  Arthur's 
example  by  taking  a  wash  from  the  tin  wash-hand  basin 
that  was  produced  from  the  wagon,  he  sat  watching  the 
prcpaiations  about  the  camp-stove. 

"  MHV  I  stay  to  breakfast  with  you? "  he  asked.  "  IVe 
ot  money  enough  to  pay  for  it." 


"  THE  JUMPING-  OFF  PLA  CE."  39 


"I  dcn't  know,"  said  Arthur,  doubtfully.  "You 
have  to  ask  Barney.  Well,  yes,  you  shall  stop  too,''  ho 
added,  as  he  saw  the  boy's  face  fall.  You  shall  have  iny 
breakfast,  anyhow." 

"  But  I  can  pay  for  it.  I've  got  some  money  sewed  into 
my  jacket." 

"  How  much  ?  "  demanded  Tom,  who  was  splitting  up 
a  fence-rail  for  fire-wood. 

"Eighty  dollars,"  said  Johnny,  simply. 

"  Jerusalem  crickets  !  "  exclaimed  Tom.  "  Where  did 
you  get  so  much  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Jeuness  gave  it  to  me  before  I  left.  He  said  it 
was  mine,  and  that  he  had  been  keeping  it  for  me." 

Before  any  more  talk  could  be  made,  a  bright-faced. 
handsome  young  fellow,  with  a  citified  and  jaunty  air, 
walked  up  to  the  group,  and  asked,  "  Can  you  tell 
me  where  I  can  find  the  Lee  County  boys,  as  they  call 
them  ?  " 

"  That's  us,"  said  Tom,  with  a  good-natured  grin. 

"  Well,  I'm  in  luck  ;  and  where's  the  captain?  " 

Barnard,  who  was  coming  out  of  the  tent  with  an  armful 
of  bedding,  said  :  "  We  have  no  captain.  What's  your 
will?" 

"  I  hear  you  want  a  yoke  of  cattle.  I  have  a  yoke  which 
I  should  like  to  turn  in  as  part  of  my  outfit,  if  you  will 
take  another  partner.  I'm  going  through." 

Barnard  eyed  him  suspiciously,  and  said,  "  Where 
from  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  from  Boston  last  ;  born  in  Vermont,  though  ; 
have  been  in  the  dry-goods  trade  ;  got  tired  of  selling 
goods  over  the  counter.  I'm  going  through.-' 

The  boys  looked  curiously  at  the  Boston  dry-goods  <sale&- 
DLan,  who  had  come  all  the  way  to  Council  Bluffs  to  find 


£0  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

a  chance  to  go  to  California.  He  said  his  party  hat 
broken  np  and  gone  back. 

"  We'll  think  it  over,"  said  Barnard. 

"All  right,"  said  the  Boston  man.  My  name  is  Mon 
tague  Morse." 


NEW  PARTNERS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NEW    PARTNERS. 

THE  boys  wore  a  little  shy  of  Mr.  Montague  Morse.  He 
had  the  appearance  of  "  a  city  chap,"  Hiram  Fender  said. 
He  wore  a  plaid  velvet  vest,  a  black  frock-coat  (somewhat 
seedy,  to  be  sure),  and  his  trousers,  though  tucked  into  the 
tops  of  his  calfskin  boots,  were  more  suitable  for  Boston 
streets  than  for  the  great  plains.  Then  he  was  very  pre 
cise  in  his  language,  and  had  a  way  of  saying  "good 
morning,"  instead  of  "  mornin'  to  yer,"  which  quite  dis 
comfited  Hiram  and  Tom.  The  latter  took  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  declare  that  "  that  Boston  feller  was 
cranky."  It  seemed  very  odd,  too,  that  he  should  be 
knocking  about  there  on  the  frontier,  alone,  and  seeking 
a  chance  to  get  in  with  some  party  bound  across  the  con 
tinent.  To  be  sure,  he  said  that  his  party  had  broken  up 
and  had  left  a  yoke  of  cattle  on  his  hands ;  but  how  did 
they  know  that  he  had  not  stolen  these  oxen  ?  Arthur 
fairly  shuddered  when  this  dark  suspicion  crossed  hie 
mind  ;  and  he  looked  involuntarily  to  see  if  their  new  ac 
quaintance  did  not  have  the  "  game  leg  "  by  which  Johnny 
had  described  a  missing  adventurer.  Morse,  however, 
told  a  very  straightforward  story,  and  his  manner  was  so 
frank  and  open  that  one  of  the  party,  at  least,  regarded 
him  with  favor.  Barnard  said,  after  much  deliberation! 
"  That  fellow  is  clear  grit." 

One  afternoon,  the  boys,  leaving  Tom  at  home  "  tc  keep 


48  TEE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

house,"  crossed  the  river  and  hunted  up  Morse,  who  wai 
temporarily  quartered  at  the  camp  of  some  Illirois  men., 
They  saw  his  oxen  grazing  in  the  meadow  hard  by,  and 
EOOII  satisfied  themselves  that  he  had  honestly  corno  into 
possession  of  them.  The  people  at  the  Illinois  comp  knew 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  Boston 
man's  party,  and  they  incidentally  told  the  etory  over 
again  while  gossiping  about  the  intended  trade  with  oui 
boys. 

"  But  if  we  take  your  cattle  in  with  our  team,  we  shal". 
have  to  trade  off  our  horses,  and  get  a  yoke  of  oxen  for 
ourselves,"  interposed  Barnard. 

"  Hosses  ?  have  you  got  a  hoss  for  sale  ? "  asked  one  of 
the  Illinois  party. 

"We  have  a  pair,"  replied  Barnard,  "which  we  shall 
not  want  if  we  go  on  with  cattle.  What  do  you  think  are 
best  for  the  plains — cattle  or  horses  \ " 

"  Well,  some  allow  that  bosses  is  best,  because  they're 
the  fastest ;  then,  agin,  there's  them  that  allows  that  cattle's 
best,  because  they  hold  out  better  in  the  long  run.  Then, 
agin,  cattle  can  feed  where  bosses  would  e'enamost  starve 
to  death.  Hosses  is  delicate  critters,  powerful  delicate. 
How  much  do  you  allow  you'll  get  for  yer  hoss  \ " 

Hiram  broke  in  with  the  information  that  they  had  not 
made  up  their  minds  to  sell.  They  were  only  considering 
the  matter.  At  this,  a  silent  man,  who  had  been  mending 
liis  trousers  in  a  corner  of  the  tent,  spoke  up  : 

'  I  know  four  chaps  camped  dowrn  by  the  creek. 
They've  got  a  cheap  yoke  of  cattle — a  young  cow  and  a 
emart  little  steer ;  just  the  thing  for  a  leadin'  yoke." 

Arthur  laughed  outright  at  the  idea  of  driving  a  cow  it 
an  ox-team. 

"  Well,  you  may  laugh,  young  feller,"  said  the  man,  as 


NEW  PARTNERS.  43 

he  shut  up  Dne  eye  and  tried  to  thread  his  needle  ;  "  but 
let  me  tell  ye  that  cows  is  cows  in  Californy — one  hundred 
and  sixty  or  seventy  dollars  a  head,  I've  heerd  tell ;  and  a 
good  drivin'  cow  will  pull  like  all  possessed,  if  she's  rightly 
yoked.  Then  there's  yer  milk  all  through,  ye  see,  fur 
nothin',  so  to  speak."  And  he  resumed  his  mending. 

"  It  wouldn't  do  any  harm  to  go  and  see  that  team  of 
mixed  critters,"  suggested  Hiram. 

So  the  boys  started  up,  and,  getting  directions  from  the 
party  in  the  tent,  went  off  to  find  the  camp  by  the  creek. 
As  they  were  moving  away,  the  spokesman  of  the  Illinois 
men  called  after  them : 

"  I'll  trade  with  ye  for  that  white  hoss  of  your'n.  I  seen 
him  when  we  war  comin'  through  loway.  Say  sixty-five 
dollars?" 

"  He's  worth  seventy-five,"  called  back  Hiram ;  and  the 
boys  went  on  together,  the  Boston  man  leading  off  at  a 
great  pace.  They  searched  around  a  long  time  before 
they  found  the  camp  of  the  men  who  had  a  yoke  of  cattle 
to  sell.  At  most  of  the  camps  where  they  inquired,  things 
seemed  gloomy.  The  latest  news  from  California  was 
unfavorable.  Many  were  talking  about  turning  back ; 
but  many  others  were  doggedly  completing  their  prepara 
tions  for  the  final  start.  One  man,  standing  on  the  wheel 
of  his  wagon,  with  a  marking-brush  and  pot  of  paint,  was 
printing  on  its  canvas  cover  the  words  "  California  or  bust." 
This  was  a  sort  of  defiant  declaration  that  many  men 
thought  it  necessary  to  make,  considering  how  many  people 
were  endeavoring  to  discourage  others.  The  sign  was 
common  on  the  tents  and  wagon-covers  of  the  emigrants. 
Others  had  such  inscriptions  as  "We  are  bound  to  go 
through,"  or  "  Bound  for  the  Sacramento."  and  one  partj 
had  painted  on  their  wagon-cover  "  Root,  hog,  or  die." 


±4  TUE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

It  was  a  picturesque  sight,  this  city  of  emigrants.  More 
people  were  here  than  on  the  east  side  of  the  river.  Most 
of  them  had  completed  their  outfit  at  Council  Bluffs,  and 
were  fixing  up  the  few  odds  and  ends  that  were  needed 
before  the  final  start.  Already  they  affected  the  rudo 
ways  and  manners  of  the  plains.  For  the  most  part,  the 
men  wore  slouched  hats,  and  red  or  blue  flannel  shirts ; 
they  discarded  coats  and  vests,  and  wore  belts  at  the  waist. 
The  weather  was  mild,  for  it  was  now  early  May,  and 
groups  of  emigrants  were  cooking  in  the  open  air,  and 
carrying  on  a  sort  of  outdoor  house-keeping,  of  which 
their  wagons  were  the  foundation.  Here  and  there  was  a 

O 

family  of  father,  mother,  and  children.  One  wagon  the 
boys  saw  had  "  No  more  Missoury  for  us  "  painted  on  its 
dingy  red  cover  in  black  letters ;  and  a  flock  of  white- 
haired  children — Arthur  said  there  were  sixteen — climbed 
out  and  in,  staring  open-eyed  at  the  strangers.  This  popu 
lous  group  had  no  tent ;  they  lived  wholly  in  the  wagon, 
an  enormous  affair  with  a  tall  top,  high  at  each  end  and 
lower  in  the  middle.  The  father  of  the  family,  a  yellow- 
faced,  discouraged-looking  man,  wearing  mud-colored 
clothes  of  home-spun,  "  allowed  "  that  he  was  from  "  Ar- 
kinsaw,"  and  was  not  quite  sure  whether  he  should  go  to 
California  or  Oregon.  He  should  go  by  the  North  Platte 
route,  and  turn  off  to  the  north  by  the  Fort  Hall  road,  if 
the  g  >ld  news  should  "peter  out"  by  the  time  he  reached 
that  point. 

"  Gosh !  how  that  Boston  fellow  do  walk,"  sighed  Hi 
ram,  who  found  it  difficult  to  keep  up  with  their  new 
comrade.  Morse  strode  on  ahead,  talking  eagerly  ovei 
his  shoulder;  and  the  hard  buds  of  the  "rosinweed; 
plants  that  covered  the  meadow  rattled  against  his  boot 
legs  as  he  measured  uff  the  ground.  Arthur  trotted  alony 


NEW  PARTNERS.  45 

somewhat  laboriously,  and  wondered  if  all  Boston  people 
walked  like  Mr.  Montague  Morse. 

They  found  the  men  who  had  the  ox  and  cow  for  sale — 
rdiir  great  hulking  fellows  who  had  four  yoke  of  cattle 
among  them.  They  had  two  wagons,  one  of  which  they 
uad  exchanged  for  provisions  and  cash  in  the  town  of 
Council  Bluffs,  and  the  other  they  retained.  They  would 
6<;11  the  ox  and  cow  together  for  sixty-five  dollars.  The 
cow  was  "  skittish  and  a  little  wild-like,"  but  a  good  milker 
and  was  first-rate  in  the  yoke.  The  steer — well,  there  he 
was,  a  small  black  fellow,  with  one  horn  crumpled  down 
in  the  oddest  sort  of  way. 

"Strong  as  a  steam-ingine,"  explained  the  owner. 
"Strong  as  a  steam-ingine  and  tame  as  a  kitten.  And, 
stranger,  he's  just  the  knowingest  critter  you  ever  see. 
'Pears  like  he  was  human,  sometimes — hey,  Tige  !  "  and 
the  man  affectionately  patted  the  little  black  steer  on  his 
nose. 

"  Is  this  all  you've  got  to  sell  \ "  asked  Hiram,  rather 
discontentedly. 

"  AVell,  the  fact  is,  stranger,"  replied  the  man,  "  wre  don't 
really  want  to  sell.  'Pon  my  word,  we  don't.  But  we've 
no  need  fur  all  these  cattle,  and  we  do  need  the  money, 
I  just  hate  like  poison  to  part  wiih  Old  Tige.  (His  name's 
Tiger,  you  see,  and  we  call  him  Tige,  for  short.)  But  we've 
got  three  other  yoke  and  a  light  load ;  and  we  allow  to  go 
through  right  peart,  without  no  trouble." 

The  boys  walked  around  the  cattle  two  or  three  tnnca 
more,  their  owner  treating  them  to  a  long  string  of  praises 
of  his  odd  yoke,  as  he  sat  on  the  wagon-tongue  and  talked 
fast. 

"  Come  now,  say  sixty  d  ^llars  and  it's  a  trade.  I  wan) 
the  money  powerful  bad,"  he  concluded. 


1C  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Arthur  pulled  Hiram's  sleeve  and  said  : 

"  Take  him,  Hi ;  take  him.  I  like  that  little  blar  k 
steer." 

Hiram  spoke  up  :  "Give  us  the  refusal  of  this  ycr  yoka 
of  cattle  until  to-morrow  ? " 

"  We  have  not  yet  concluded  whether  we  shall  buy  any 
cattle  here,  or  go  on  with  our  horses,"  explained  Barnard. 
Mcrse  looked  a  little  disappointed,  but  said  nothing. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  boys  should  have  until  next  day 
to  make  up  their  minds  about  buying  the  cattle  at  sixty 
dollars  for  the  yoke.  As  they  walked  back,  Morse,  thought 
fully  whipping  off  the  weed-tops  with  his  ox-goad,  said: 

"  You  fellows  take  account  of  stock — wagon,  outfit,  pro 
visions,  and  team.  I'll  put  in  my  yoke  of  cattle  and  my 
share  of  provisions  and  outfit,  or  money  to  buy  them,  and 
will  pay  you  my  proportion  of  the  cost  of  the  wagon. 
Partnership  limited ;  the  concern  to  be  sold  out  when  we 
get  through  ;  share  and  share  alike.  How's  that  ? " 

"  That's  fair,"  said  Barnard.  But  Hiram  nudged  him, 
and  then  he  added :  "  We'll  talk  it  over.  You  come  across 
and  see  us  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning." 

It  was  agreed,  and  the  boys  went  back  to  their  camp  to 
discuss  the  proposition.  Barnard  and  Hiram  were  really 
the  final  authorities  in  the  matter ;  but  Arthur  and  Tom 
exercised  the  younger  brother's  privilege  of  saying  what 
they  thought  about  it.  Arthur  thought  the  Boston  man 
must  be  a  good  fellow.  lie  was  bright  and  smart ;  and 
Arthur  had  noticed  that  he  spoke  cheerily  to  the  white- 
headed  children  in  the  Arkansas  wagon.  Besides,  he  waa 
always  pleasant  and  full  of  jokes,  added  the  boy,  with  a 
feeling  that  that  was  not  conclusive,  though  he  had  f  brined 
his  opinions  partly  by  it. 

"  I  suppose  we  have  really  made  up  our  minds  to  go 


NEW  PARTNERS.  47 

with  oxen.  1  like  that  Boston  chap.  We  can't  get  another 
yoke  of  cattle — if  we  sell  your  horse  and  buy  the  ox-and- 
cow  yoke — any  better  than  by  taking  this  man  into  camp 
with  us,"  argued  Barnard. 

"  But  them  store  clothes  !  "  said  Hiram,  with  some  dis 
gust, 

"  Why,  he  can't  help  it  if  he  has  to  wear  out  his  old  city 
clothes,"  said  Arthur,  eagerly.  "  He  is  not  foolish  enough 
to  throw  them  away.  So  he  wears  'em  out  for  common 
ones.  Don't  you  see  ? " 

"  And  he's  a  powerful  walker,"  added  Hiram,  with  an 
expression  of  admiration  on  his  freckled  face.  "  Golly  1 
how  that  chap  kin  walk,  though  !  " 

And  this  turned  the  scale.  The  Boston  man  was  sol 
emnly  voted  into  the  partnership. 

Tom  once  more  objected  that  Morse  was  "  stuck  up," 
and  he  was  once  more  suppressed  by  his  brother,  who  re 
minded  him  that  he  talked  too  much  with  his  moutlL 
This  frequent  rebuke  having  silenced  Tom,  Hiram  added  : 

"  A  feller  that  knows  as  much  about  cattle  as  he  does, 
and  kin  walk  like  he  does,  isn't  stuck  up.  Besides,  he'll 
put  in  just  about  eighty  dollars  inter  the  company's  mess." 

At  this,  little  Johnny,  who  still  clung  to  the  boys,  started 
ii]).  "  Eighty  dollars !  Oh,  I've  got  eighty  dollars.  Won't 
you  take  me  through  for  that  ?  " 

Hiram  looked  with  some  disdain  on  the  little  fellow, 
who  was  trembling  with  excitement,  and  said  :  "You  got 
eighty  dollars  my  little  kid  !  Where  ? " 

Johnny  hastily  stripped  off  his  striped  trousers,  and, 
turniLg  out  the  lining  of  the  waistband,  showed  four 
(kt,  round  disks  of  something  hard,  carefully  sewed  in. 

"  Them's  it!  them's  it !  "  Fonr  on  'em  ;  four  twenty  dol 
lar  gold  pieces,  all  sewed  in."  And,  slitting  little  holes  IF 


*g  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

the  cloth,  he  showed  the  coins,  sure  enough,  each  sewed 
in  separately  from  the  other. 

<l  Poor  little  chap  1  We  don't  want  to  take  your  money, " 
Baid  Barnard. 

"  JSTo,"  added  Hiram.  "  Besides,  you  hain't  got  no  clothes 
\vuth  speaking  about.  You  can't  go  across  the  plains  in 
them  clothes." 

"  They're  not  '  store  clothes,'  though,  Ilirara,"  added 
Arthur,  with  a  laugh.  But  Arthur's  heart  had  gone  out 
to  the  poor  little  waif,  and  he  reminded  his  comrades  that 
part  of  his  money  might  be  used  for  an  outfit,  and  it  would 
be  only  fair  to  take  part  as  his  share  of  the  cost  of  the 
trip. 

"  Besides,  I've  got  clothes,"  said  the  waif  ;  and,  unroll 
ing  his  bundle,  he  showed  some  coarse  woolen  shirts,  a 
pair  of  cowhide  shoes,  overalls,  and  a  few  small  articles  of 
wearing  apparel. 

Barnard  inspected  these  critically,  and  said :  "  Nc 
woman  folks  put  these  up ;  but  they'll  do  better  than 
nothing." 

Arthur  felt  a  touch  of  homesickness  at  this  remark,  and 
his  thoughts  flew  back  to  his  mother  as  he  glanced  over 
his  own  tidy  suit,  the  work  of  his  mother's  hands.  lie  saw 
her  again  at  the  garden-gate,  as  he  had  seen  her  many  a 
time  while  camping  out  in  the  lovely  Iowa  prairies ;  and, 
with  a  soft  voice,  he  said : 

"  Let's  take  Johnny  along,  boys.  He  shall  have  half  of 
my  blankets." 

"What  do  you  say,  Barney  ? "  asked  Hi  ram,  with  a  little 
glow  in  his  honest  heart,  though  he  looked  at  the  waif  with 
an  air  of  severe  scrutiny. 

':  I'm  agreed,  if  you  are,"  replied  Barnard.  "  But  I  tel/ 
you  what  it  is,  Arty,- -our  tent  is  full,  and  we  ean't  hava 


NE  W  PARTNERS.  4  K 

any  more  passengers  or  lodgers.     The  partnership  is  com« 
plete  this  time." 

At  this,  Johnny,  who  had  ripped  out  the  four  gold  coing 
from  his  waistband,  put  them  into  Hiram's  hand,  and 
said : 

"  API  I  going  through  with  you  ?  " 

u  Well,  I  allow  you  shall  go  through  with  us,  youngster, 
It's  share  and  share  alike,  you  know  ;  and  you  are  to  do 
your  part  of  the  work.  That's  all.  There's  nothin'  eomin' 
to  ye  when  we  get  through.  Understand  that  ? "  And  a 
hard  look  flitted  across  the  young  man's  face  as  he  jingled 
the  gold  in  his  palm. 

Johnny  protested  that  he  understood  the  bargain  per 
fectly,  lie  was  to  have  such  clothes  as  they  thought 
necessary.  The  rest  of  his  cash  was  to  pay  for  his  share 
of  the  provisions  needed  for  the  trip. 

Next  day  Morse  came  over  early,  with  the  information 
that  the  Illinois  men  would  give  seventy  dollars  for 
Hiram's  white  horse.  Morse  was  informed  of  the  conclu 
sion  of  the  partnership  discussion.  The  terms  were  onco 
more  gone  over  and  fairly  understood  on  both  sides,  and 
the  bargain  was  ratified.  "  ISTow,  then,'-  said  Barnard, "  this 
is  Mister  Hiram  Fender,  late  of  Lee  County,  Ilinois,  known 
as  Hi  Fender,  for  short.  This  is  Thomas  Fender,  brother  of 
the  same,  and  '  a  right  peart  boy,'  as  he  says ;  otherwise 
Tom.  And  this  infant  is  my  brother,  Arthur  Adams  Ste 
vens,  probably  the  best  boy  that  ever  lived — except  myself, 
and  is  known  in  this  camp  as  Arty.  As  for  myself,  I  am 
Arty's  brother,  which  is  glory  enough  for  me,  and  my 
name  is  Barker  Barnard  Stevens ;  otherwise  Barnard, 
usually  called  Barney  for  short,  and  sometimes  clubbed 
Barney  Crogan,  by  my  small  and  impertinent  brother." 

The  boys  laughed  heartily  at  this  long  speech ;  Morse 
3 


50  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

not  to  bo  outdone  in  advancing  intc  intimate  acquaintance, 
said : 

"Permit  me,  gentlemen,  to  introduce  myself — Monta 
gue  Perkins  Morse,  late  of  Hovey  &  Co.'s,  Boston  ;  novr 
bound  for  California,  or  bust;  and  generally  known  as 
Mont  Morse,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  Mont — and  very  much  at 
your  service." 

With  a  great  deal  of  enthusiasm,  the  boys  celebrated 
this  happy  conclusion  of  affairs  by  going  over  the  river 
and  closing  the  two  bargains.  The  white  horse  was  sold 
to  the  Illinois  m6n  for  seventy  dollars ;  and  they  took  Tige 
and  Molly,  for  these  were  the  names  of  the  ox  and  cow,  at 
the  sum  agreed  upon  the  day  before. 

"  We  will  move  over  here  to-morrow,"  said  Hiram,  "  and 
wo  will  take  the  cattle  off  your  hands  then." 

"But  to-morrow  is  Sunday,"  said  Mont.  "We  are  not 
going  to  travel  Sundays,  are  we  ?  " 

Hiram  looked  a  little  troubled  for  a  moment.  Then 
Barney  cheerily  said : 

"  Oh,  no ;  we  are  not  going  to  travel  Sundays,  except 
in  cases  of  great  emergency.  Are  we,  Hi  ? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Hiram,  briskly.  "  N\3ver 
allow  to  travel  on  Sundays,  not  if  we  can  help  it." 

"  Then  you  '11  keep  the  cattle  until  Monday,  won't  you  ?" 
asked  Barnard. 

"  Well,  if  you  fellers  are  too  pious  to  come  over  on  Sun 
day,  you  may  take  'em  away  now,"  said  the  man, 
gruffly. 

"  All  right,"  replied  Hiram.  "  We'll  take  them  now, 
»nd  be  beholden  to  nobody  for  nothin'." 

So  the  cattle  were  taken  across  the  ferry,  and  the  boys 
had  milk  with  their  corn-meal  mush  that  night. 

"  A  mean  old  hunks,"  growled  Hiram.    "  Wanted  us  tc 


NEW  PARTNERS.  51 

smash  Sunday  all  to  pieces,  did  he  ?  Well,  I  allow  we 
made  just  two  milkings  out  of  him." 

Sunday  here  was  not  like  the  Sabbath  at  home.  Labor 
was  generally  suspended  throughout  the  camps,  however, 
except  where  some  impatient  party  stole  out  with  their 
teams,  driving  along  with  a  half-subdued  air,  as  if  afraid 
"to  smash  Sunday  all  to  pieces."  Here  and  there,  emi 
grants,  looking  neat  but  uneasy  in  their  particularly  clean 
clothes,  lounged  about  the  wagons  and  "  traded  "  in  under 
tones,  or  discussed  the  latest  news  from  California,  by  way 
of  the  States. 

The  bright  May  sun  shone  down  upon  a  motley  mass  of 
people  scattered  among  tents  or  grouped  around  wagons. 
About  noon,  the  blowing  of  a  horn  announced  that  a  reli 
gious  service,  of  which  notice  had  been  previously  circu 
lated,  would  begin.  There  was  a  general  sauntering  in  the 
direction  of  a  cluster  of  wagons,  near  which  a  preacher, 
standing  on  a  feed-box,  called  the  people  about  him. 

Five  or  six  women,  wives  of  emigrants,  aided  by  twice 
as  many  men,  formed  a  choir,  and  their  voices  rose  sweetly 
on  the  air  with  the  familiar  hymns  of  Christian  service. 
Then  the  minister,  after  devotional  exercises,  preached  a 
little  sermon  from  the  text  in  Romans  viii.,  17.  He  talked 
about  heirs  and  heirship  ;  he  dwelt  on  the  fact  that  they 
were  all  seeking  an  inheritance,  and  while  he  inculcated 
wisdom  and  prudence  in  this  search,  admonishing  the 
people  about  him  to  seek  the  true  riches,  he  reminded 
thorn  that  they  were  joint  heirs;  that  their  inheritance  was 
mutual.  He  taught  them  to  bear  with  one  another  ;  tc  be 
patient,  loving,  and  to  go  on  in  their  journey  of  life,  aa 
across  the  continent,  with  unselfishness,  bearing  each 
others  burden. 

"  That's  a  right  smart  chance  of  a  sermon,"  said  Hiram, 


52  THE  BO  I'  EMIGRANTS. 

as  they  moved  away  after  the  last  hymn  had  been  sung 
and  the  attentive  crowd  had  dispersed.  "  A  good  sermon ; 
and  just  you  remember  what  the  parson  said  about  toting 
one  another's  burdens,  you  Tom,  will  ye  ? " 

Tom  received  this  lesson  with  some  show  of  indignation, 
and  said : 

"  O  yes,  you're  the  man  that  hears  sermons  for  some 
other  feller,  you  are." 

But  Arthur  added,  in  the  interest  of  peace : 

"  Tige  can't  carry  the  yoke  alone.  Molly  must  bear  up 
her  end.  So  if  you  and  I  don't  wash  the  dishes  and  get 
supper,  Hi  and  Barnard  can't  drive  the  wagon  and  get 
wood  and  water." 

"  Good  for  you,  Arty,"  said  Hiram,  heartily.  "  And 
even  little  Johnny  here  is  goin'  to  pitch  in  and  do  his 
share.  I  know  he  is,  for  I  seen  him  choppin'  wood  this 
mornin'  like  sixty." 

Johnny  colored  with  pleasure  at  this  rude  praise,  and 
Arty  declared  that  Johnny  was  one  of  the  joint  heirs 
whom  the  preacher  had  talked  about. 

The  debate  about  the  sermon  and  their  future  united 
interests  was  a  pleasant  end  to  a  pleasant  day.  Mont  had 
taken  up  his  abode  with  the  party.  The  tent  was  full,  and 
the  six  young  fellows  were  paired  off  among  the  quilts  and 
blankets  that  covered  their  floor  of  grassy  earth. 

That  night,  Arthur  felt  Johnny  stirring  under  the 
blankets  by  his  side. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Johnny  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  boy  put  his  thin  hand  on  his  companion's  shoulder, 
and  whispered  in  his  ear,  "I  love  you." 

Arty  kissed  the  little  waif  and  said,  "  It's  a  bargain.* 
Then  they  slept  again. 


ADRIFT. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ADRIFT. 

"  WELL,  novr}  Johnny,  you  dc  look  right  peart."  Thil 
was  Hiram's  opinion  of  the  little  lad  when  he  had  been 
equipped  with  his  new  suit  of  clothes.  lie  brought  enough 
apparel  with  him  for  common  wear;  but  he  needed  a  ser 
viceable  suit  for  a  change.  This,  with  the  necessary  boots 
and  shoes,  a  warm  jacket  for  cold  weather,  and  some  addi 
tional  supplies  which  his  enlistment  in  the  company  re 
quired  to  be  bought,  made  quite  a  hole  in  the  eighty 
dollars  which  he  had  put  into  the  common  fund. 

"  Never  mind,  youngster,"  said  the  good-natured  Ili. 
"  I  allow  we'll  have  enough  for  all  hands  to  get  through 
on  ;  so  as  you  pitch  in  and  do  your  share  of  work,  we 
sha'n't  find  no  fault." 

Johnny  declared  his  willingness  to  do  all  he  could  for 
the  benefit  of  the  company,  whether  it  was  picking  up  fuel, 
washing  dishes,  or  driving  the  team.  He  was  quite  a  man 
DOW,  he  thought,  though  only  a  little  fellow.  For  wasn't 
he  bound  for  Calif  jruia  to  make  his  fortune  ?  And  ho 
was  going  with  his  own  resources,  too,  and  could  earn  his 
way.  This  thought  made  the  boy  cheerful  and  happy; 
the  color  came  again  into  his  cheeks ;  he  grew  merry  and 
frolicsome ;  and,  before  the  last  days  of  preparation  were 
over,  the  poor  outcast  was,  as  Hi  said,  "  right  peart." 

They  had  delayed  at  the  river  a  longtime.  There  were 
many  things  to  be  disposed  of,  and  their  places  to  1  e  sup- 


54  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

plied  with  articles  which  were  more  needed.  There  were 
preventives  against  scurvy  to  be  bought,  for  they  had 
heard  that  some  emigrants  ahead  of  them  had  suffered 
from  that  dreadful  disease,  just  as  sailors  do  on  the  ocean 
when  their  vegetables  and  fresh  provisions  give  out.  So 
the  boys  laid  in  a  supply  of  dried  apples  and  vinegar 
und  traded  away  some  of  the  stuff  which  they  had  in  ex 
cess.  Then  parts  of  the  wagon  had  to  be  changed  to  suit 
the  oxen,  as  they  were  now  to  make  the  voyage  across  the 
]  >lains  with  cattle  instead  of  horses. 

One  bright  May  morning,  they  took  down  their  tent, 
packed  their  bedding,  loaded  the  wagon,  yoked  up  the 
cattle,  and  began  their  long,  long  tramp  across  the  continent. 
Numerous  other  emigrant  trains  were  stretching  their  way 
over  the  rolling  prairies  to  the  westward,  and  the  undula 
ting  road  was  dotted  with  the  wrhite-covered  wagons  of 
their  old  neighbors  of  the  canvas  settlements  by  the  Mis 
souri  Iliver.  Looking  behind,  they  saw,  with  a  little  pang 
of  regret,  the  well-beaten  spot  where  they  had  made  their 
home  so  long.  Around  that  place  still  lingered  a  few  emi 
grants,  who  waved  their  hats  to  them  by  way  of  cheer,  aa 
the  long  procession  of  adventurers  wround  its  way  over  the 
ridges.  Beyond  and  behind  was  the  flowing  river ;  the 
bluffs  which  give  their  name  to  the  town  bounded  the 
horizon,  and  beyond  these  was  the  past  life  of  these  young 
fellows,  with  all  its  struggles  ;  there  was  home. 

Before  them  lay  the  heart  of  the  continent  with  ifa 
mysteries,  difficulties,  and  dangers.  They  tramped  on 
right  bravely,  for  beneath  the  blue  horizon  that  lured  them 
forward  vere  wealth,  fame,  adventure,  and — what  thes« 
bright  young  spirits  most  longod  for — opportunities  for 
making  their  own  way  in  the  world.  At  any  rate,  they 
had  turned  their  backs  on  civilization  and  home. 


ADRIF1  55 

Their  patience  was  tested  somewhat  severely  during 
their  very  first  week  on  the  track  across  the  continent 
They  expected  disagreeable  things,  and  they  found  them. 
They  had  been  traveling  through  a  rolling  country,  desti 
tute  of  timber  and  dotted  with  only  a  few  bunches  of 
brushwood  by  the  creeks.  Barney,  Arthur,  and  Tom  took 
turns  at  driving  the  team.  Mont  strode  on  ahead.  Hi 
and  Johnny  "  changed  off  "  with  riding  Old  Jim,  for  whose 
back  a  saddle  had  been  "  traded  "  for  at  the  Bluffs.  The 
young  emigrants  were  in  first-rate  spirits,  and  when  a  light 
rain  came  up  at  night,  they  laughed  blithely  over  the 
prospect  of  soon  getting  used  to  the  "hardships"  of  which 
they  had  been  so  often  warned.  It  was  discouraging 
work,  however,  cooking  supper ;  for,  by  the  time  they  had 
camped,  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.  They  got  their  camp- 
stove  into  the  tent,  and,  by  running  out  its  one  joint  of 
pipe  through  the  open  entrance,  they  managed  to  start  a 
tire.  More  smoke  went  into  the  tent  than  out  of  it,  for 
the  wind  had  veered  about  and  blew  directly  into  it.  Then 
they  decided  to  strike  the  tent  and  change  it  around  so  as 
to  face  to  the  leeward.  This  was  a  difficult  job  to  do  while 
the  rain  fell  and  wind  blew.  But  the  boys  packed  their 
camp  stuff  together  as  well  as  they  could,  and  took  down 
the  tent. 

"  Hold  on  tight,  boys  !  "  shouted  Barnard,  cheerily,  for 
the  canvas  was  flapping  noisily  in  the  wind,  and  threat- 
fined  to  fly  away  before  it  could  be  secured.  Arty  held 
up  cne  pole  and  Barnard  the  other,  while  Mont,  Hi,  and 
Tom  ran  around  to  pin  the  canvas  to  the  earth,  Johnny 
following  with  the  bag  of  tent-pins.  Just  then  a  tre 
mendous  gust  came,  and  away  flew  the  tent  like  a  huge 
balloon,  jerking  Tom  head  over  heels  as  it  went.  Poor 
little  Johnny  clung  to  it  desperately,  having  caught  hold 


66  THE  BO  Y  EMIGEANTS. 

of  one  of  the  ropes  as  it  went  whirling  over  his  head 
He  was  dragged  a  short  distance  and  gave  it  up,  his  hand* 
being  cut  and  torn  by  the  line. 

"Stop  her!  stop  her!"  yelled  Hi,  and  away  they  all 
ran  after  the  flying  canvas.  The  cattle  were  cowering 
under  the  lee  of  a  few  bushes  across  the  road,  and  tho 
apparition  of  the  collapsed  tent  coining  over  their  heads, 
startled  them  so  that  they  ran  wildly  in  all  directions. 
The  cow  was  caught  by  the  horns,  a  fold  of  the  tent-cloth 
having  been  entangled  on  them,  and  she  set  off,  frantically 
bellowing,  across  the  prairie.  The  canvas  by  this  time 
was  so  wet  and  heavy  that  it  could  not  be  dragged  far. 
and,  when  the  boys  came  up,  poor  Molly  was  a  prisoner 
They  rescued  their  fugitive  house,  and,  in  a  sony  plight 
took  it  back  to  where  their  camp  was  now  exposed  to  ? 
pelting  rain. 

"  Ain't  this  fun,  Arty  ? "  said  Hi,  grimly,  when  the}- 
were  once  more  under  cover. 

"Fun  alive  ! "  replied  Arty ;  "  and  so  long  as  we  have  a 
roof  over  us  for  the  night,  we  are  in  great  luck.  But  how 
we  are  ever  to  get  supper  is  more  than  I  know." 

"  Supper  ? "  retorted  Barnard.  "  I'd  like  to  know  where 
we  are  going  to  sleep  to-night.  Every  inch  of  ground  is 
Bopping  wet,  and  no  fire  that  we  can  build  will  dry  it. " 

"  We  can  get  a  good  fire  in  the  stove,"  said  Mont,  saga 
ciously,  "  and  keep  moving  it  about  until  we  dry  the  worst 
of  it;  and,  when  it  stops  raining,  it  will  drain  off  a  great 
deal.  But  it  does  not  look  much  like  holding  up,"  he 
added,  as  he  looked  out  at  the  sheets  of  rain.  ;<  And  if  it 
don't  hold  up,  we  may  as  well  not  go  to  bed  at  all." 

Indeed,  the  prospect  was  rather  gloomy,  and  the  yonnsr 
emigrants  began  to  thHk  themselves  early  introduced  to 
the  disagreeable  part  of  their  trip.  They  managed  tc 


ADRIFT.  57 

keep  up  a  roaring  fire  in  their  camp-stove,  however,  and 
the  air  in  the  tent  was  dry  and  warm.  They  made  tea, 
and  fried  their  meat,  and  with  dry  crackers  secured  a 
tolerable  meal.  By  midnight  the  rain  abated  and  ceased 
flowing  under  the  canvas.  They  then  lay  down  on  the 
damp  blankets,  and  slept  as  best  they  might.  Toward 
morning  Arty  awoke,  and,  hearing  the  rain  on  the  canvas 
roof,  reached  out  his  hand  and  found  the  ground  near  by 
covered  with  water.  Water  was  everywhere  around  him. 
He  lay  in  a  puddle  which  had  accumulated  under  him.  At 
first,  he  thought  he  would  turn  over  and  find  a  dry  spot. 
But  he  immediately  discovered  that  that  would  not  be  a 
good  plan.  He  had  warmed  the  water  next  him  with  the 
natural  heat  of  his  body.  To  turn  over  was  to  find  a 
colder  place.  So  he  kept  still  and  slept  again  as  soundly 
as  if  he  were  not  in  a  small  pond  of  water. 

They  were  wakened  after  sunrise  by  the  sound  of 
wagons  driving  by.  Jumping  up  from  their  damp  beds, 
the  young  emigrants  found  themselves  somewhat  be 
draggled  and  unkempt.  But  the  rain  had  ceased,  the 
sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  what  discomfort  can  long 
withstand  the  influence  of  a  fair  day,  sunshine,  and  a 
warm  wind  ? 

The  cattle,  fastened  up  the  night  before  to  the  wagon- 
wheels,  were  lowing  for  freedom ;  and  the  boys  were  at 
once  ready  to  begin  preparations  for  another  day's  journey. 
They  spread  their  bedding  and  spare  clothing  in  the  sun 
shine,  brought  out  their  camp-stove,  built  a  fire,  and  had 
a  jolly  breakfast  with  hot  biscuits  and  some  of  the  little 
luxuries  of  camp  fare. 

All  that  day  the  boys  traveled  with  their  blankets 
spread  over  the  wagon-top,  in  order  to  dry  them  in  the  hot 

sun  ;  but  not  one  of  the  partv  complained  of  the 
8* 


58  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

forts  of  the  previous  night,  nor  showed  any  sign  of  beii;g 
any  worse  for  sleeping  in  the  rain. 

"  It  gets  me,  Mont/'  said  Hi  Fender,  "  that  a  city  feller 
like  yon,  should  put  up  with  such  an  uncommon  hard  night 
without  growling." 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing  when  you  get  used  to  it,"  said  Mont, 
lightly. 

"  But  you  are  getting  used  to  it  sooner  than  1  am,''  re 
plied  Barnard,  with  admiration  for  the  young  city  fellow's 
pluck. 

"  There  ain't  much  such  accommodations  in  Boston,  I 
allow  ? "  said  Hi.  "  No  sleepin'  out  in  canvas  tents,  with 
the  water  creeping  under  your  blankets,  in  that  village, 
is  there  ? " 

"  "Well,  no ;  but  we  cannot  bring  city  ways  out  on  the 
plains,  you  know,  Hi ;  and  as  long  as  we  have  a  canvas 
roof  over  us,  we  ought  to  be  satisfied  and  thankful.  By 
the  way,  I  wonder  how  those  Pike  County  fellows  got 
on  last  night.  They  intend  to  sleep  in  their  wagon  when 
they  have  reduced  their  load,  but  they  sleep  on  the  ground 
now.  Must  have  found  it  a  little  damp  last  night." 

Barnard  thought  that  Busli,  with  his  heifer  and  go-c.art, 
would  be  worse  off  than  anybody  they  knew.  Bush  was  a 
jolly  emigrant,  travelling  all  alone  with  a  hand-cart  fixed 
up  with  shafts,  into  which  was  harnessed  a  young  cow. 
He  had  quarrelled  with  his  partner  at  Council  Bluffs, 
and  had  gone  off  in  a  fit  of  disgust.  His  entire  wordly 
>vealth  was  packed  into  the  little  cart,  with  one  or  two 
racks  of  flour,  some  "  side  meat,"  beans,  and  coffee.  His 
cooking  apparatus  consisted  of  a  frying-pan  and  a  tin  pot,  in 
which  latter  useful  utensil  he  made  his  coffee  and  cooked 
everything  that  could  not  be  cooked  in  his  frying-pan. 

"  I   don't  believe  Bush  put  in  much  time  singing  last 


ADRIFT.  5V 

night/'  said  Tom.     "  If  his  fiddle  wasn't  drowned  out,  he. 
was,  I'll  just  bet." 

"  There  he  is  now  !  "  said  Arty,  and  as  he  spoke  they  saw 
Bush's  tall  form  stalking  beside  his  queer  little  team,  and 
rising  over  a  swell  of  the  prairie,  just  ahead. 

At  camping-time  that  night  they  overtook  Bush,  who 
was  as  gay  and  light-spirited  as  ever.  He  hailed  the  boya 
with  heartiness,  and  begged  the  privilege  of  baking  a  cake 
of  dough  in  their  camp-stove. 

"  The  fact  is,  boys,"  he  explained,  "  me  and  Sukey  had 
a  rough  time  of  it  last  night,  and  I  guess  a  hot  corn-dodger 
will  help  us  both  mightily.  Hey,  Suke  ! "  he  said,  lovingly 
for  Bush  and  his  vicious  little  cow  were  on  very  good  terms. 

"  Rain  ? "  he  said  in  answer  to  the  boys'  inquiries. 
"  Rain  ?  Oh,  no,  I  guess  not.  It  didn't  rain  at  all  worth 
mentioning.  It  jest  came  down  on  the  run.  Well,  it  did. 
[  crawled  under  the  go-cart,  where  the  water  wa'n't  more 
than  a  foot  deep.  It  wasn't  dry  quarters  ;  but  I  could  have 
got  along  as  gay  as  you  please  only  for  my  legs.  They're 
so  all-fired  lengthy  that  they  stuck  out  and  got  wet.  When 
1  pulled  'em  in,  my  head  stuck  out,  and  when  I  pulled 
my  head  in  agin,  my  legs  stuck  out.  Pity  about  them  legs, 
ain't  it,  boys  ? "  he  added,  looking  down  at  his  canvas- 
covered  limbs.  "  Howsomever,  I  thought  of  you  chaps 
I'm  used  to  it,  but  you  Boston  fellers  ain't  seasoned  yet. 
I  was  camping  by  myself  over  behind  the  divide,  to  keep 
out  of  the  wet,  and  when  1  saw  your  tent  get  up  and  dust, 
I  started  to  lend  you  a  hand.  But  you  corraled  the  pesky 
thing  before  I  could  get  to  you." 

"  Much  obleeged,  I'm  sure,"  said  Hi.  "  But  we  caught 
ner  on  the  critter's  head  afore  she  went  far." 

"  Yes,  yes,  a  tent's  a  mighty  onhandy  thing,  I  do  be 
lieve.  Good  enough  for  them  that  can't  get  along  without 


60  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

it ;  but  as  for  me,  as  the  revolutionary  feller  said,  gimme 
liberty  or  gimme  death.  I'd  rather  sleep  out  o'  doors.'J 

"  Queer  feller,  that  Bush,"  said  Hi,  when  they  were 
Bq  uatted  about  their  camp-table  at  supper-time.  "  He's 
tough  as  sole-leather  and  chipper  as  a  cricket.  And  he 
allows  to  go  clean  through  to  Californy  with  that  'ere  go- 
cart  and  heifer.  Why,  the  Mormons  will  steal  him,  hia 
cow,  and  his  cart,  and  all,  if  he  ever  gets  so  far  as  Salt 
Lake." 

"  They'll  be  smart,  then,  for  he  sleeps  with  both  eyes 
open,"  said  Barnard,  who  admired  Bush  very  much. 

They  were  camped  in  a  low,  flat  bottom,  by  the  river 
Platte.  Tall  cotton-wooas  fringed  the  river-bank,  on  the 
north  side  of  which  the  emigrant  road  then  ran.  Here 
were  wood,  water,  and  grass,  in  plenty ;  and  at  this  gener 
ous  camping-ground  many  emigrants  pitched  their  tents  for 
the  night.  After  supper  was  over,  the  boys  strolled  out 
among  the  camps  and  enjoyed  the  novel  sight.  The  emi 
grants  had  now  got  into  the  ways  of  the  plains — were 
doing  their  own  cooking  and  washing,  and  put  on  their 
roughest  manners  and  roughest  clothes,  and  were  already 
beginning  to  talk  about  the  Indians.  The  Cheyennes,  it  was 
said,  were  very  troublesome  just  beyond  Fort  Laramie ; 
and  it  was  reported  that  one  party  of  emigrants  had 
been  attacked  near  the  Point  of  Rocks,  and  all  hands 
killed. 

At  one  camp-fire  where  our  boys  lingered,  Bush  was  the 
centre  of  a  large  party,  to  whom  he  was  singing  his  one 
great  song,  "  Lather  and  Shave."  It  was  a  famous  song 
of  many  verses — ninety-nine,  Bush  said ;  but  he  never  had 
time  to  sing  them  all,  though  often  invited  to  give  them. 
His  violin  had  so  far  survived  all  misadventures,  and  fur 
nished  lively  music  for  the  company.  One  handsome 


ADRIFT.  61 

young  fellow,  with  a  tremendous  voice,  sang  a  ditty  about 
emigrating  to  the  gold  mines,  of  which  the  refrain  was : 

"  Ho !  ho !  and  the  way  we  go, 
Digging  up  the  gold  on  the  Sacramento  I  " 

All  the  bystanders  and  loungers  joined  in  this  chorni 
with  spirit,  the  last  syllable  of  Sacramento  being  shot  out 
with  a  will—"  Toe  !  " 

At  another  camp,  they  found  a  forlorn  little  woman 
dandling  a  child  on  her  knee,  sitting  on  a  wagon-tongue, 
while  her  husband  was  trying  to  get  supper  under  her 
directions.  The  fire  would  not  burn,  the  man  was  awk 
ward,  and  his  patience  seemed  clean  gone  as  he  finally 
squatted  back  on  the  ground  and  caught  his  breath,  after 
blowing  at  the  fire  until  he  was  red  in  the  face. 

"  Yes,  we've  had  a  powerful  bad  streak  of  luck,"  he 
complained.  "  First,  she  took  sick  at  the  Bluffs,"  he  said, 
jerking  his  head  toward  the  woman  on  the  wagon-tongue. 
That  kep'  us  there  nigh  onto  a  month ;  and  my  pard,  he 
got  out  of  patience  and  lit  out  and  left  us.  Then  the 
young  one  up  and  had  the  cholery  yesterday,  and  we  broke 
down  in  that  thar  slew  just  beyond  Papes's,  and  we  had  to 
double  up  teams  twicet  that  day.  And  now  then  this  yere 
blamed  fire  won't  burn,  and  we  be  agoin'  to  Calif orny. 
We  be,"  he  added,  with  great  sarcasm.  "  I  never  could 
build  a  fire ;  hit's  woman's  work,  hit  is !  Oh,  look  at  yer, 
smolderin'  and  smudgin'  thar!"  he  continued,  addressing 
the  sulky  fire.  With  a  sudden  burst  of  rage,  he  kicked 
the  smoking  embers  to  the  right  and  left  with  his  heavy 
boots,  and  said,  "  Blast  Californy  !  " 

"  Here>  let  me  try,"  said  Tom.  "  I'm  right  smart  at 
fire  bildin' ;  "  and  the  boy  gathered  the  half -charred 
embers  together,  and  deftly  fanned  a  flame  from  them  bj 


62  THE  BC  T  EMIGRANTS. 

wafting  his  hat  before  the  coals,  into  which  he  poked 
Borne  dry  steins  and  grass.  The  fire  recovered  itself 
cheerily,  and  the  man  looked  down  on  Tom's  stooping 
figure  with  a  sort  of  unwilling  admiration.  Arthur  did 
not  like  the  looks  of  a  husband  who  seemed  so  indifferent 
to  his  wife  and  baby. 

"  Here,  give  me  the  baby,"  said  the  boy  ;  "  I'll  tend  it 
while  you  get  your  supper.  And,  Mister,  you  had  better 
look  after  your  cattle.  I  see  they've  got  all  snarled  up 
with  that  ox-chain." 

"  Drat  the  cattle  ! "  said  the  man  ;  and  he  went  off  to 
swear  at  the  poor  beasts  which  had  managed  to  turn  theii 
yokes  and  worry  themselves  generally  into  a  tangle,  while 
waiting  for  their  master  to  take  care  of  them  for  the 
night. 

"  Don't  mind  him,"  sighed  the  woman,  relinquishing 
the  sick  baby  to  his  volunteer  nurse.  "Don't  mind  him. 
He's  got  a  right  smart  of  a  temper,  and  he  do  get  con- 
trairywise  when  things  goes  con trairy wise,  and  the  good 
Lord  knows  they  have  gone  con  trairy  wise  ever  since  we 
left  the  States.  Now  trot  the  young  one  easy -like,  if  he 
hollers,  and  I'll  just  rattle  up  some  supper  for  my  ole 
man." 

Arty  held  the  baby  as  tenderly  as  he  could,  softly  moving 
up  and  down  on  his  knee  the  unpleasant-looking  feather 
pillow  on  which  it  was  laid.  A  tall  young  girl  camo 
around  from  behind  the  wagon ;  looked  at  the  emigrant's 
wife,  who  was  kneading  biscuit,  kneeling  on  the  ground; 
looked  at  Arthur,  who  was  crooning  a  little  song  to  the 
lick  baby  ;  and  then  she  remarked : 

"  Goodness,  gracious  me  !  " 

"  Nance  ! "  said  Arthur,  looking  up. 

"  Yes,  it's  Nance,"  retorted  the  tall   young  girl,  with 


ADRIFT.  08 

some  asperity.     "  Leastways,  I'm  called  sicL  by  folks  that 
haven't  got  no  more  manners  than  they  have  room  for." 

"  Beg  pardon,  Miss  Nancy.  But  you  surprise  me  so. 
you  know." 

"  I  suppose  you  don't  allow  I'm  surprised.  Oh  no,  not 
the  leastest  bit.  You  a-tendiug  baby  out  here  or  the 
perarie !  Howsomever,  I  like  it,  I  like  it !  I  declare  to 
gracious,  I  do!  "  she  added  in  a  milder  tone.  "  It's  just 
what  boys  are  fit  for.  Hope  you've  learned  to  make  bread 
by  this  time.  Scalded  their  flour,  the  ornery  critters  !  Oh, 
my ! "  and,  overcome  by  the  recollection  of  that  first 
great  experiment  of  the  boys  when  in  Iowa,  the  tall  young 
girl  sat  down  on  the  wagon-tongue  and  doubled  herself  up 
again. 

"  Never  mind,"  she  said,  disengaging  herself  from  her 
laugh.     "  If  you'll  come  over  to  our  camp,  I'll  give  yon 
some  yeast — real  hop-yeast;  brought  it  all  the  way  fi< 
Iowa}7  myself.     It's  good  enough  to  bust  the  cover  of  you* 
camp-kettle  off." 

"  Your  camp !  Are  you  going  to  California  ? "  asked 
Arthur,  with  surprise. 

"  Goin'  to  Californy  !  Of  course  we  be.  What  else  do 
you  suppose  we'd  be  campin'  out  here  on  the  Platte,  miles 
and  miles  away  from  home,  for  ?  " 

"  But  how  did  you  pass  us  \  " 

"  Couldn't  say.  Dad,  he  allowed  he  wouldn't  stop  at 
the  Bluffs  more'n  one  day.  Oh,  he's  got  the  gold  fever 
just  awful !  " 

"  Was  he  thinking  of  going  to  California  when  we 
passed  your  place  in  Iowa ! " 

"Couldn't  say.  He  seen  the  folks  piling  by  on  the 
emigrant  road,  bound  to  the  gold  mines.  He  used  to  set 
on  the  fence  and  swap  lies  with  'em  by  the  hour,  and  ma 


64  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

just  hollerin'  at  him  from  the  back-door  all  the  while.  Oh 
my !  wasn't  she  mad,  though !  " 

"  Didn't  she  want  to  come  ? " 

"  Not  at  first ;  but  she  got  to  talking  with  some  of  the 
women- folks  on  the  road,  and  then  she  and  dad  talked 
gold  all  night  and  all  day.  They  jest  got  wild.  So  one 
day,  dad,  he  let  the  place,  picked  up  his  traps,  bundled  ua 
into  the  wagon,  and  here  we  be." 

"  How  do  you  like  it,  as  far  as  you've  got  ? "  asked  Torn, 
who  by  this  time  had  become  very  much  interested  in 
Nance's  story. 

"  Pretty  tolerble-like.     How's  yerself  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  pretty  good  fun,  all  but  washing  dishes," 
replied  Tom,  bashfully. 

"  Washin'  dishes ! "  retorted  the  girl,  with  great  scorn. 
"  And  you  call  yer  handful  of  tin  plates  and  things  washiii' 
dishes.  Don't  I  wish  you  had  to  do  up  the  dishes  I  had 
at  home  in  loway !  Oh,  it's  real  persimmons,  this, — just 
nothing  to  do.  Barefooted,  you  see,"  and  Nance  put.  out 
a  brown  foot,  to  show  that  she  had  left  her  shoes  with 
civilization. 

"  Where's  your  other  fellers  ? "  she  asked, — "  specially 
that  one  that  scalded  his  flour  ? " 

Arthur  explained  that  they  were  about  the  camps, 
having  tarried  where  Bush  was  playing  his  violin  for  a 
"stag  dance,"  as  it  was  called,  down  by  the  cotton- woods. 

"  Well,  you  come  over  to  our  camp  to-morrow,  early, 
and  I'll  give  you  some  real  hop-yeast.  It's  worth  a  hull 
raft  of  bakin'  powder  and  self -risers.  We're  off  at  sun-up 
Bo  long ! ",  And  Nance  was  gone. 

"  Right  smart  chance  of  a  gal,  that,"  commented  the 
emigrant,  whose  anger  had  cooled,  and  who  was  sitting  or: 
an  ox -yoke  contentedly  smoking  his  pipe. 


"So  Miss  SuubDimet  is  going  to  California,  is  she?" 
said  Barnard,  when  the  boys  related  their  interview  with 
that  young  woman. 

"Yes,"  replied  Arthur,  remembering  Nance's  Brown 
foot ;  "  she's  going  a-digging  up  the  gold  on  the  Sfxsramen 
—toe  t »' 


63  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TROUBLE   IN   THE   CAMP. 

THE  next  few  days  of  travel  were  very  wearisome  and 
tedious.  The  road  was  a  dull  level,  stretching  along  bj 
the  banks  of  the  Platte  River.  Repeated  rains  had 
made  the  ground  soft,  and  the  teams  moved  with  great 
difficulty,  for  all  of  the  emigrants  were  loaded  heavily. 
From  Council  Bluffs  to  Salt  Lake  City  was  an  uninter 
rupted  wilderness,  with  only  here  and  there  a  little 
trading-post.  The  provisions  consumed  on  the  trip  could 
not  be  replaced  until  the  Mormon  capital  was  reached  ; 
and  even  at  that  place  only  flour  and  meat  could  be 
bought  at  reasonable  prices.  So  the  supplies  of  groceries, 
clothing,  and  small  goods  needed  for  the  journey  must 
last  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Sacramento. 

The  weather  was  \varm,  and  our  young  emigrants  found 
it  very  uncomfortable  trudging  along  in  the  heat  of  the 
day,  with  the  sun's  rays  pouring  down  upon  them.  Hi 
grumbled  a  great  deal  at  the  disagreeable  things  he  had 
to  encounter.  It  was  disagreeable  walking,  and  disagree 
able  driving.  It  was  particularly  disagreeable  to  be  pur 
sued  as  they  were  by  mosquitoes.  At  night,  while  they 
camped  in  the  flat  valley  of  the  Platte,  these  pests  were 
simply  intolerable. 

"  Let's  make  a  smudge,  boys,"  said  Barnard,  one  night, 
when  they  had  in  vain  tried  to  eat  their  supper  in  com 
fort.  Clouds  of  mosquitoes  hovered  about  their  head*. 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  GAMP.  67 

filling  their  eyes,  ears,  and  noses,  and  making  the  air 
shrill  with  their  music. 

"We  might  as  well  be  smoked  to  death  as  stung  tc 
death,"  growled  Hi.  "  I  never  see  anything  so  disagree 
able.  It's  wuss  than  small-pox." 

So  the  boys  collected  some  hazel-boughs  and  grass, 
made  a  fire  on  the  ground  and  covered  it  with  the  green 
etuff,  and  soon  had  a  thick  "  smudge  "  of  stifling  smoke 
about  them.  The  mosquitoes  seemed  to  cougli  a  little 
among  themselves,  and  then  they  gradually  withdrew  in 
disgust. 

"  That  worries  the  pests,"  said  Mont.  "  1  think  I  see 
five  or  six  hundred  of  them  on  that  hazel  brush,  waiting 
for  the  thing  to  blow  over ;  then  they  will  make  another 
rush  at  us." 

"  Yes,"  added  Hi,  "  and  there's  one  big  he  feller ;  I  see 
him  now,  cavorting  through  the  under-brush  like  mad. 
He  got  some  smoke  in  his  left  eye,  and  he'll  make  us 
smart  for  it  when  he  comes  back.  Ugh !  ugh !  but  this 
smoke  is  wuss  than  git-out.  I  can't  stand  it  no  longer  !  " 
— and  Hi,  choking  with  the  effects  of  the  "  smudge," 
seized  his  plate  of  bread  and  bacon,  and  ran.  The  others 
stayed  as  long  as  they  could,  and  then  left  everything  and 
retired  to  a  little  distance  from  the  fire.  The  mosquitoes 
were  ready  for  them,  and  descended  upon  them  in 
millions. 

The  boys,  finishing  their  supper  as  best  they  might,  got 
inside  the  tent,  leaving  a  circle  of  smoking  fire-heaps  all 
about  it.  Sleep  was  impossible  that  night.  They  visited 
some  of  the  neighboring  camps,  of  which  there  were  a 
great  many;  and  everybody  was  fighting  mosquitoes. 
Smoldering  fires  all  about  were  kindled,  and  public  feel- 
vag  ran  very  high  against  the  great  nuisance  of  the  night 


88  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

One  man  remarked  that  there  ought  to  be  a  mass-meeting 
called  and  resolutions  passed.  Another  suggested  that 
the  mosquitoes  were  the  original  settlers  on  the  place,  aud 
that  they  had  rights  which  even  a  white  man  was  oound 
to  respect. 

During  the  night,  too,  the  cattle,  which  were  chained 
up  as  usual,  were  so  frantic  with  the  annoyance  that  they 
were  in  danger  of  injuring  themselves.  They  ran  to  and 
fro  with  their  short  allowance  of  chain,  snorted,  tore  the 
earth,  and  lashed  themselves  into  a  frenzy.  It  was  de 
cided  to  unyoke  them  and  take  the  chances  of  finding 
them  in  the  morning.  "  Tige,"  as  soon  as  he  was  at 
liberty,  walked  deliberately  up  to  one  of  the  smudge  fires, 
where  he  turned  his  tail  toward  it  and  stood  contentedly 
chewing  his  cud. 

"  Sagacious  Tige,"  said  Mont,  "  I  believe  I  will  follow 
your  example." 

Tige  appreciated  this  compliment,  apparently,  for  he 
lay  down,  having  tested  the  value  of  smoke  as  a  shield 
against  mosquitoes.  Mont  rolled  himself  in  his  blanket 
and  lay  down  by  another  fire,  and  managed  to  sleep 
almost  as  well  as  Tige.  The  others  did  the  same,  though 
it  was  hard  work  to  keep  up  the  fires  and  find  sleep  also. 
Arthur  woke  up  long  before  daybreak,  with  the  insects 
buzzing  and  stinging  about  his  face.  He  jumped  up  in 
sheer  desperation  and  ran  wildly  out  on  the  level  road, 
half  a  mile  or  more,  without  stopping.  lie  could  hear 
the  bodies  of  the  mosquitoes  striking  on  his  hat  as  he  tied. 
Tben  he  turned  and  ran  back  again,  leaving  a  long  train 
of  the  pests  behind  him.  But  they  caught  up  with  him 
by  the  time  he  had  reached  the  camp.  In  despair,  he 
covered  hia  head  with  a  blanket,  and  sat  down  by  a  tree 
trunk  to  sleep  again,  having  first  stirred  up  a  good  smudgp? 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  CAMP.  69 

for  Tige,  who  looked  on  complacently  at  this  provision 
for  his  comfort.  Arthur  stooped  and  brushed  a  few 
mosquitoes  from  Tige's  black  muzzle,  and  the  steer  loot  ed 
up  at  him  intelligently,  as  if  to  say,  "  Hard  lines,  these, 
my  boy." 

"  Arouse  ye !  arouse  ye !  my  merry  Swiss  boys ! "  sang 
Mont,  bright  and  early  next  morning,  while  the  rest  of 
the  party  were  yet  struggling  with  mosquitoes  in  their 
dreams.  "  We  have  a  long  drive  to  the  crossing  of  Loup 
Fork,  to-day ;  and  if  we  don't  get  there  in  good  season, 
we  shall  have  to  wait  a  whole  day  to  get  a  chance  on  the 
ferry." 

The  boys  turned  out  of  their  various  lairs  with  many 
expressions  of  discomfort.  They  had  just  had  a  tiresome 
day's  travel  and  almost  no  rest  at  all.  The  air  was  now 
moist  and  warm,  with  the  promise  of  another  hot  day. 
They  were  smarting  with  mosquito  bites,  and  were  gen 
erally  uncomfortable. 

"  Well,  I  allow  this  is  reely  disagreeable,"  said  Hi,  half 
sitting  up,  clasping  his  hands  across  his  knees,  and  looking 
excessively  miserable. 

The  picture  of  Hi,  squatted  there  forlornly,  with  his  hat 
crumpled  over  his  head,  his  face  blotched  with  bites,  and 
his  eyes  heavy  with  sleep,  was  too  funny  for  Barnard,  who 
laughed  outright  and  said  : 

"  Well,  I  declare,  Hi,  but  you  do  look  like  the  vory 
last  rose  of  summer  that  ever  was  !  " 

"  See  here,  Barney  Crogan  ! "  said  Hi,  angrily, "  I  don't 
want  none  of  your  sass.  And  I  jest  give  you  notice  of 
that." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  "  sharply  replied 
Uarnard,  who  felt  his  anger  rieing.  "  You  sit  there  like 


70 


THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


a  bump  on  a  log,  saying  that  things  are  '  disagreeable, 

I  don't  see  that  that  helps  it." 
"  Well.  I  don't  want  anybody's  chin  about  it — that'i 


HIBAM. 


what  I  don't  want.  And  I  allow  I  ain't  agoin'  to  stand 
no  nonsense  from  a  feller  that  don't  take  his  regular  speli 
ftt  drivinV 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  CAMP.  71 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  said  Barnard,  advancing  threat 
eningly  toward  Hi,  who,  by  this  time,  had  risen  to  his 
feet  and  stood  with  his  blanket  still  clinging  about  him. 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  If  you  mean  to  say  that  I  don't 
do  my  share  of  work,  I'll —  " 

"Oh,  stop!  stop!  boys,"  interposed  Mont.  "There's 
really  no  use  of  quarreling.  I  suppose  we  all  feel  cross 
and  unhappy,  after  such  a  miserable  night.  I'm  sure  I 
do.  But  we  needn't  quarrel." 

"  Who's  quarrelin',  I'd  like  to  know.  I  ain't.  It's 
that  stuck-up —  " 

But  before  he  had  time  to  finish  his  sentence,  Mont  had 
playfully  put  his  hand  on  Hi's  mouth,  saying : 

"  Well,  I  know  I  am  a  stuck-up  Boston  chap,  but  111 
try  to  get  over  it." 

Barnard  was  secretly  amused  at  this  ingenious  turn,  but 
he  was  too  angry  to  say  anything,  and  he  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  the  cattle. 

Tom  and  Johnny,  the  latter  somewhat  alarmed  at  the 
warlike  appearance  of  things  in  camp,  scoured  the  under 
brush  for  dry  wood  for  their  breakfast  fire. 

"  If  Barney  had  sassed  me  like  that,"  commented  Tom, 
when  out  of  earshot  of  his  elders, "  I  would  have  punched 
his  head  for  him." 

"  Appears  to  me  that  Hi  had  no  cause  to  fire  up  so — 
Barney  didn't  mean  anything ;  and  I'm  sure  Hi  did  look 
queer-like,  sitting  there  with  his  hat  mussed  and  his  head 
all  swelled  up." 

"  I'll  swell  your  head  for  ye,  yer  ongratef ul  little  weaseL 
Yer  always  takin'  Crogan's  side  " — and  Tom  dealt  him  a 
blow  behind  the  ear.  Johnny  tumbled  over  a  clump  of 
brush,  crying,  not  so  much  with  pain  as  with  anger  and 


72  TEE  BOY  EMIGRANTS 

mortification.  Tom  only  muttered,  "  You  can't  sass  me 
you  know." 

Loaded  with  their  fuel,  they  went  back  to  the  camp, 
where  Arthur,  with  a  lowering  brow,  was  busy  over  the 
Are,  making  ready  for  breakfast. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  f  "  he  asked  with  amaze 
ment  and  some  asperity,  as  he  noticed  the  tears  on  Johnny's 
face." 

"  I  punched  his  head  for  his  sass,"  said  Tom,  defiantly. 

Without  a  word,  Arthur  banged  Tom  over  the  head  with 
the  sheet-iron  stove-cover,  which  he  happened  to  have  in 
his  hand.  The  boy  felt  the  indignity,  for  his  face  waa 
covered  with  soot  and  his  eyes  smarted.  But,  before  he 
could  get  at  Arthur,  who  stood  by  the  stove,  his  eyes 
sparkling,  and  his  lithe  young  form  swelling  with  anger, 
Mont  seized  Tom  and  drew  him  away.  Johnny  threw  him 
self  on  Arty  and  entreated  him  not  to  fight  on  his  account, 
meanwhile  protesting  that  it  was  nothing  at  all. 

Luckily,  the  other  late  combatants  were  not  at  hand,  and 
Mont,  helping  Tom  to  remove  the  soot  from  his  face  and 
hair,  soothed  his  angry  feelings  and  asked  him  to  promise 
to  leave  off  quarreling. 

"  You  shouldn't  have  st/uck  little  Johnny ;  you  know 
that,  Tom.  He  is  a  little  chap,  much  smaller  than  you,  and 
it  was  a  cowardly  thing  for  you  to  knock  him  over." 

"  But  that's  no  reason  why  Art  should  whack  me  over 
the  snoot  with  a  griddle,"  answered  the  lad. 

"  Certainly  not,  certainly  not ;  but  he  did  that  in  a  mo- 
mont  of  passion.  I  dare  say  he  is  sorry  for  it  by  this  time. 
If  he  is  not,  I  shall  be  sorry  for  Arty ;  he  usually  means  to 
do  what  is  right.  It  was  wrong  for  him  to  strike  you  j 
there's  no  doubt  about  that.  But  you  will  forgive  him,  if 
he  asks  you  'i " 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  CAMP.  73 

u  I  allow  he  won't  ask,"  said  Tom,  with  great  grimness 

«  But  if  he  does  \ " 

"  All  right,  let  him  come  on.  I'm  ready  for  him, 
anyway." 

It  was  not  a  merry  party  which  sat  down  to  breakfast 
together  that  morning.  Mont  found  it  difficult  to  keep  up 
fin  animated  conversation.  Hi  had  only  one  word,  and  that 
was  "  disagreeable."  Perhaps  they  should  not  have  eaten 
mifch  breakfast,  as  the  usual  result  of  bad  feelings  is  to 
destroy  one's  appetite.  On  the  plains  this  rule  does  not 
always  hold  good.  I  am  bound  to  say  that  they  ate  very 
heartily,  for  they  had  had  almost  no  supper  on  the  night 
before. 

When  the  cattle  were  yoked  up  and  the  caravan  was 
ready  to  move,  Mont  picked  up  the  whip  and  said,  with  a 
cheery  look  at  the  others : 

"  Let  me  drive  to-day." 

"  You  can't, "  said  Hi,  stiffly,  but  not  unkindly. 

"  Let  me  try,"  and  Mont  moved  off  with  the  team  as 
steadily  as  if  he  had  driven  oxen  all  his  life.  He  had 
watched  the  driving  of  Hi  and  Barnard,  and  had  practised 
some  with  the  cattle  when  they  were  turned  out  at  noon, 
yoked  together,  for  a  short  rest.  Molly,  the  skittish  little 
cow,  would  occasionally  "  gee,"  or  bolt  out  of  the  track, 
which  was  always  a  great  source  of  annoyance  even  to  Hi, 
for  Molly  was  on  the  "  off  "  side,  and  it  was  sometimes 
necessary  to  run  around  the  head  of  the  cattle  to  get  tho 
mischievous  animal  back  into  the  track  again.  But  Mont 
got  on  capitally  ;  he  walked  by  the  side  of  the  docile  and 
knowing  Tige,  who  seemed  able  to  keep  all  the  rest  of  the 
team  in  gotd  spirits.  Tige  was  fond  of  potatoes,  sugar 
iread,  and  many  other  luxuries  usually  denied  to  cattle , 
and  Mont  kept  on  good  terms  with  the  queer  little  steer 
4 


7 1  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

by  carrying  Lie  odds  and  ends  of  his  own  rations  in  hit 
pocket  for  Tige. 

But  even  Tige's  good-nature,  combined  with  Mont's, 
could  not  cheer  np  the  rest  of  the  party.  Little  Johnny, 
porahed  on  old  Jim's  back,  paced  along  beside  the  wagon, 
never  galloping  off  on  brief  excursions  by  the  roadside,  as 
he  usually  did  when  allowed  to  ride  the  horse.  Hi 
trudged  along  sulkily  behind ;  Arthur  walked  on  ahead 
to  Loup  Fork  Ferry;  and  Barney,  in  defiance  of  rules 
and  usage,  climbed  into  the  wagon,  where,  on  top  of  the 
load  and  close  against  the  wagon-bows,  he  went  to  sleep. 

Before  noon  they  reached  the  ferry,  so  long  looked  for 
and  talked  about.  The  Loup  is  one  of  the  forks  of  the 
Platte,  and  in  those  days  it  was  crossed  by  a  rope-ferry, 
which  some  enterprising  man  had  put  in  there.  A  long 
scow,  large  enough  to  take  on  two  wagons,  with  the  usual 
number  of  cattle,  slid  across  the  stream,  attached  by  slings 
and  pulleys  to  a  rope  tightly  stretched  from  shore  to  shore. 
The  current  was  swift,  and,  by  keeping  the  scow  partly 
headed  up  stream,  the  pressure  forced  the  unwieldy  craft 
across. 

Here  were  numerous  teams  waiting  their  chance  to 
cross,  each  being  numbered  in  turn.  Some  of  them  had 
waited  two  days  for  their  turn  to  come ;  but  to-day  their 
number  had  been  reduced  by  the  departure  of  several 
who  had  gone  to  a  place  farther  up  the  Fork,  where  it  waa 
reported  that  a  ford  had  been  found.  Our  party  ascer 
tained  that  they  could  cross  by  sundown  ;  so  they  un 
hitched  their  cattle  and  waited,  having  first  paid  the  ten 
dollars  for  ferriage  which  the  avaricious  ferry-keepei 
demanded  for  each  team. 

The  young  fellows  took  this  opportunity  to  rest.     Bar 
nard  sat   lazily   on  the   bank   angling   for   catfish.      Hj 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  CMAP.  75 

climbed  into  the  wagon  and  went  to  sleep,  Mont  ehattod 
with  the  ferry-master,  who  sat  in  the  doorway  of  his  log 
hut  and  surveyed  the  busy  scene  below  him  with  the  air 
of  a  wealthy  proprietor. 

"  I  should  suppose  that  you  would  get  the  gold  fever, 
seeing  so  many  people  pressing  on  to  the  mines,"  said 
Mont. 

The  ferryman  chuckled,  and  waving  his  pipe  toward 
the  rude  ferry,  said : 

"  Thar's  my  gold  mine.     Ten  dollars  a  pop." 

"  Yes,  that's  so.  I  suppose  you  are  making  a  mint  of 
money." 

"  Not  so  dreffle  much,  not  so  dreffle  much,"  the  man 
replied  uneasily.  "  Ye  see,  repa'rs  and  w'ar  and  far  are 
mighty  bindin'  on  a  man,  cl'ar  out  hyar  on  the  plains. 
Why,  I  hev  to  go  cl'ar  to  K'amey  for  every  scrap  of  any 
thing.'* 

"  But  your  receipts  must  be  enormous.  Let  me  see 
You  can  make  at  least  twelve  trips  a  day  ;  you  get,  saj 
twenty  dollars  a  trip,  sometimes  more,  and  that  is  two 
hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  day." 

"  Powerful  smart  on  figgers  you  be,  young  feller,"  said 
the  man,  and  he  laughed  with  a  cunning  leer  in  his  eye 
at  Mont. 

Meanwhile,  Tom  leaned  over  the  slight  fence  with 
which  the  ferryman  had  inclosed  his  "  garding,"  as  he 
called  it.  The  boy  coveted  the  young  onions  just  begin 
ning  to  show  their  bulbs  half  out  of  the  warm  soil ;  and  he 
meditated  on  the  scarcity  of  potatoes  which  their  appetites 
were  making  in  their  own  stores.  Arthur  came  up  and 
laid  his  hand  on  Tom's  shoulder,  and  looked  over  too. 

"  Lx>ks  something  like  home,  don't  it,  Tom?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Tom.     "  I  was  just  a-thinkin'  how 


fG  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS 

never  would  plant  garden  truck.  Always  wheat,  wheat 
wheat.  Blast  the  wheat,  when  a  feller  has  to  go  to  the 
neighbors  for  garden  sass." 

"  Bit,  then,  we  sometimes  get  '  sass  '  without  going  foi 
it,"  said  Arty,  with  a  smile. 

Tom's  face  darkened  at  this  allusion  to  the  difficulties 
of  the  morning  ;  but  Arty  continued : 

"  I  am  real  sorry,  Tom,  that  I  struck  you  as  I  did.  It 
was  awful  mean,  and  I  didn't  intend  it." 

"  Yes,  you  did.     How  else  could  you  done  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  Tom,  it's  a  hard  case  to  explain.  My  hand 
just  flew  up  before  I  knew  what  I  was  about.  The  first 
thing  I  knew  I  had  hit  you.  Come  now,  I  assure  you  I 
am  sorry,  and  I  want  to  make  up." 

"  All  right,"  grumbled  Tom. 

"You  forgive  me,  honor  bright?  Well,  give  us  your 
hand." 

Tom  looked  around  awkwardly  at  Arthur,  for  he  had 
kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  onion-bed  during  this  brief  dia 
logue.  He  glanced  into  Arthur's  pleasant  boyish  face, 
and  said  frankly : 

"  Quits  !  we'll  call  it  square,  and  there's  my  fist  on  it." 

As  the  sun  began  to  drop  behind  the  horizon,  the  turn 
for  our  young  party  to  cross  came  at  last.  They  had 
waited  nearly  ten  hours,  and  were  right  glad  when  they 
were  able  to  see  the  way  across  clear  for  them.  The  scow 
could  not  reach  the  farther  shore,  as  there  was  a  long 
akallow  all  along  that  side.  So  the  clumsy  craft  was  run 
across  until  it  grounded  ;  then  a  wooden  flap  or  apron  wa? 
let  down,  and  the  teams  were  driven  oat  into  the  water 
wading  the  rest  of  the  way.  It  was  a  poor  way  of  cross 
ing  a  stream,  but  it  was  the  best  practicable  then  and 
there. 


TROUBLE  IN  THE  CAMP.  77 

"Whh  much  hallooing,  shouting,  and  running  hither  and 
thither,  the  cattle  were  driven  into  the  scow.  The  current 
was  swift,  and  the  channel  deep  ;  the  crossing  looked 
perilous,  especially  when  the  cattle  were  restive.  Molly 
was  particularly  troublesome,  and  Hi  went  around  on  thai 
side  to  quiet  her.  She  would  not  be  quieted,  and  with 
one  vicious  toss  of  her  horns,  ehe  lifted  Hi  by  his  leather 
belt.  In  an  instant  he  was  overboard,  struggling  in  the 
stream. 

No  one  else  was  on  that  side  of  the  boat ;  but  Barney 
saw  the  accident,  and  exclaiming,  "  He  can't  swim !  he 
can't  swim  !  "  rushed  around  to  the  rear  of  the  craft,  pull- 
ino;  off  his  clothes  as  he  ran. 

o 

All  was  confusion,  the  scow  being  crowded  with  men, 
cattle,  and  teams.  The  frail  craft  quivered  in  the  tide, 
while  the  startled  boatmen  were  puzzled  what  to  do. 
Diving  under  the  rear  wagon,  Barney  reached  the  gunwale 
of  the  boat  just  in  time  to  see  Hi's  hands  clutch  ineffec 
tually  at  the  edge.  He  made  a  lunge  and  seized  one  hand 
as  it  disappeared,  and,  falling  on  his  knees,  reached  over 
and  seized  Hi's  shoulders. 

"  Never  mind,  Barney  boy,  I'm  on  bottom,"  said  Hi. 
Just  then  he  stood  on  his  feet,  and  the  boat  grounded  on 
the  shoal. 

Barnard  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  and  looked  for  an 
instant  straight  down  into  Hi's  blue  eyes.  They  were 
friends  again. 

Hi  was  helped  on  board,  none  the  worse  for  his  unex 
pected  ducking.  They  drove  off  the  scow,  waded  acrosa 
the  shoal,  and  struggled  up  the  bank  with  much  turmoil 
and  bother.  They  camped  near  the  river,  and  surrounded 
themselves  with  a  cordon  of  smudge-fires.  The  mosqui 
toes  troubled  them  Tery  much  ;  but,  notwithstanding  that, 


78  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

they  passed  the  evening  cheerily.  Tom  observed,  with 
much  inward  surprise,  that  Hi  had  exchanged  his  wet 
clothea  for  a  spare  suit  of  Barney's. 

Ani  yet  Hi  had  clothes  enough  of  his  own. 


tiOM E  NEW  AC Q  VAINTANCES. 


CTTAPTEE  VIIL 

SOME   NEW   ACQUAINTANCES. 

FOB  many  days  after  leaving  Columbus,  as  the  ferryman 
facetiously  called  his  log-house,  our  emigrants  traveled 
with  an  immense  company.  One  train  alone  had  nearly 
two  hundred  head  of  cattle,  either  in  yoke  or  loose,  and 
fifteen  wagons.  It  was  a  brave  sight  to  see  this  long  cara 
van  winding  along  the  track,  with  its  white-covered  wagons 
gleaming  in  the  sun,  and  the  animals  walking  along  behind 
in  the  most  orderly  manner.  Many  of  the  men  were  on 
horseback,  and  skirmished  to  the  rear,  to  the  front,  or  by 
the  flanks  of  the  train  as  it  moved.  Arthur  declared  that 
it  looked  like  a  traveling  circus  or  menagerie,  a  compari 
son  which  was  made  more  striking  by  the  dress  of  the 
emigrants.  They  wore  all  sorts  of  queer  garments,  which 
they  had  picked  up  from  abandoned  camps.  In  those 
days  of  the  gold  rush,  people  were  reckless  about  waste,  and 
the  trail  was  strewn,  in  many  places,  with  valuable  goods, 
thrown  away  by  emigrants  who  were  in  such  haste  to  get 
on  that  they  were  continually  overhauling  their  loads  to 
see  what  they  could  leave  behind  to  lighten  them. 

These  things  were  picked  up  by  those  who  came  after 
only  to  be  again  thrown  out  for  others  to  find  and  reject 
One  of  the  emigrants,  attached  to  this  long  Missouri  train, 
wore  a  woman's  straw  bonnet,  of  the  Shaker  pattern,  with 
a  large  green  cape.  Another  was  decorated  with  a  richly 
embroidered  hunting- frock,  of  Pawnee  make;  and  ht 


80  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

tvore  a  black  silk  "  stove-pipe  "  hat,  surmounted  with  a  tall 
eagle-plume.  Some  of  the  women  of  this  company  rode 
well,  and  one  little  girl,  riding  a  fiery  Texan  pony,  seated 
astride,  excited  much  admiration  by  her  skilful  manage 
ment  of  her  steed.  A  party  of  Pawnees,  who  had  lodges, 
or  "tepees,"  near  by,  grouped  themselves  on  a  little  knoll 
and  gazed  on  this  passing  show  with  great  solemnity. 

At  camping-time,  some  of  these  red  children  of  the 
desert  came  to  the  tent  of  our  young  emigrants  begging 
and  selling  moccasins.  The  Pawnee  moccasin  is  a  plain, 
inartistic  affair,  shaped  almost  exactly  like  the  foot  of  a 
stocking,  with  one  seam  running  from  the  heel  downward 
and  lengthwise  through  the  sole  and  up  to  the  instep  over 
the  toe.  But  as  these  were  the  first  of  "  wild  Indian  " 
manufacture  that  the  boys  had  ever  seen,  each  was  eager 
l<>  secure  at  least  one  pair. 

The  Indians  were  dressed  in  buckskin  hunting-shirts 
and  leggings,  were  bareheaded,  and  wore  a  coarse  blanket 
slung  about  them.  One  of  them  produced  from  a  dirty 
buckskin  pouch  a  piece  of  paper,  which  he  impressively 
submitted  to  Mont,  as  the  apparent  leader  of  the  party, 
saying,  as  he  did  so,  "  Heap  good  Indian  me  ! "  The 
paper  read  as  follows : 

This  Indian,  Mekonee,  otherwise  known  as  The-Man-that-Champs- 
with-his-Teefch,  wants  a  recommendation.  I  give  it  with  pleasure.  Ha 
is  a  lying,  thieving,  vagabond  Pawnee.  He  will  steal  the  tiies  off  of 
your  wagon-wheels  and  the  buttons  from  your  trousers.  Watch  him. 

(Signed)  JAKE  DAWSON, 

And  thirteen  others  of  the  Franklin  Grove  Company. 

"Heap  good  Indian  me,"  said  The-Man-that-Champs- 
with-his-Teeth,  when  the  boys  had  examined  his  document. 

"Oh,  yes,"  eaid  Hi,  "I  allow  you  aie  the  inly  gooj 
Indian  that  ain't  dead  yet." 


SOME  NE WACQ UAINTANCES.  81 

The-Han-tliat-Champs-with-his-Teetli  assented  with  a 
grunt  of  approval,  folded  up  his  "  recommendation  "  and 
pi.it  it  carefully  away,  as  a  very  precious  thing.  While  he 
was  walking  softly  about  the  camp,  as  if  looking  for  some 
thing  to  steal,  another  o£  the  tribe  dived  into  the  bosom  ol 
his  hunting  shirt  and  extracted  a  lump  of  dough.  Hold 
ing  it  out  to  Arthur,  who  was  getting  ready  the  supper, 
he  made  signs  toward  the  stove  and  said,  "  Cook  him  ? " 

Arthur  assented,  but  Barnard  cried,  "  No,  no,  Arthur  1 
Don'  let  that  dirty  fellow's  dough  go  into  our  oven.  H<5 
has  stolen  it  somewhere,  and  has  carried  it  about  in  hia 
dirty  clothes,  nobody  knows  how  long." 

"  I'll  let  him  cook  it  on  top  of  the  stove  then,"  said 
Arthur ;  and  the  Pawnee  put  his  cake  on  the  outside  of  the 
camp-stove,  where  Arthur  covered  it  with  a  tin  dish.  The 
Indian,  with  an  expression  of  intense  satisfaction,  squatted 
by  the  hot  stove,  and  never  took  his  eyes  off  of  it  until  his 
dough  was  bread  and  delivered,  blazing  hot,  into  his  hand. 

The  Indians  carried  bows  and  arrows,  and  one  had  a 
battered  army-musket,  which  he  declared,  proudly,  was 
"  heap  good — killed  buffalo  six  mile  off."  This  piece  of 
brag  tickled  Hi  so  much  that  the  Indian  seized  that 
opportunity  to  beg  powder,  shot,  or  lead.  These  were  not 
given  him  ;  and  he  renewed  his  application  for  "  whisk  " 
(whisky)  or  "  sugee  "  (sugar),  both  of  which  the  Indians 
particularly  hanker  after.  These  persistent  beggars  got 
very  little  for  their  trouble,  Arthur  having  vainly  inter-, 
ceded  in  behalf  of  The-Man-that-Champs-with-his-Teeth, 
who  offered  to  give  "  heap  moccasin  "  for  a  red  silk  hand 
kerchief  of  Barnard's  which  he  very  much  desired. 

"  Where  you  from  ? "  asked  the  Indian,  as  if  attracted 
by  Arthur's  good-natured  and  pleasant  face. 

f;  From  Richardson,  Lee  County,  Illinois."  said  Arthur 
4* 


82  fHE  SC  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

"  You  know  it  is  the  land  cf  the  prairie,  one  of  the  great 
States  that  belongs  to  your  Great  Father  and  mine.  The 
people  in  that  land  are  many  ;  they  are  like  the  leaves  OL 
the  trees,  they  are  so  many.  They  are  going  to  the  lanti 
of  the  setting  sun,  where  the  gold  shines  in  the  waters  oi 
the  Sacramento.  The  pale-faces  are  covering  the  conti 
nent.  They  will  leave  no  room  for  the  red  man,  the  deei 
and  the  buffalo.  Are  you  not  sorry  for  this '( " 

"  Whisk,"  said  the  red  man,  stolidly. 

"  A  good  oration,  Arty  !  "  laughed  Mont.  "  But  Mr. 
Man-that-Champs-with-his-Teeth  don't  understand  it.  He 
understands  '  whisk '  and  '  sugee,'  and  he  don't  care  for  the 
pale-faces  as  long  as  he  get  these.  Look  out !  there  goes 
the  cover  of  your  camp  kettle ! " 

Arthur  turned  just  in  time  to  see  the  Indian  who  wa? 
squatted  by  the  stove  calmly  fold  his  arms  over  a  suspi 
cious  bunch  in  his  blanket.  Mont  stalked  over,  pulled  the 
blanket  from  the  Indian's  unresisting  arm,  and  the  iron 
cover  rolled  out  upon  the  ground.  The  copper-colored 
rascal  smiled  cunningly,  as  one  should  say,  "  1  missed  it 
that  time,  but  never  mind.  It's  a  good  joke  on  me." 
After  that  the  boys  mounted  guard  at  night-watch  and 
watch,  as  they  had  been  told  long  before  that  it  would  be 
necessary  to  do  while  passing  through  the  Indian  country. 

Next  to  "  wild  "  Indians,  the  boys  longed  for  a  sight  of 
the  buffalo  on  his  native  plain.  This  came  in  due  time. 
They  had  passed  up  the  long  tongue  of  land  which  lies 
between  Loup  Fork  and  the  Platte,  and  had  reached  a 
Bmall  stream  making  in  from  the  north  and  known  as 
Wood  River.  Crossing  this,  they  bore  off  to  the  north 
west,  with  the  little  river  on  their  right. 

One  hot  afternoon,  while  the  party  were  wearily  drag 
ging  themselves  along  Barnard  went  ahead  with  the  horse 


SOME  NEWACq UAINTANGE8.  83 

to  spy  out  a  good  camping-place.  Arthur  walked  or.  in 
advance  of  the  team  in  the  dusty  road,  half  asleep,  and 
feeling  as  if  he  should  be  happy  if  he  could  fall  down  in 
the  dust  and  take  a  long  nap.  It  was  very  tiresome,  this 
continual  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  with  each  day's  journey 
making  almost  no  difference  in  their  progress.  Arthur 
grumbled  to  himself,  and  scarcely  heard  the  boyish  talk 
of  Johnny,  who  trudged  along  with  him.  Once  in  a  while 
he  felt  himself  dropping  to  sleep  as  he  walked.  His 
heavy  eyes  closed ;  he  lost  sight  of  the  yellow  wagon-track, 
the  dusty  grass,  and  the  earth,  which  seemed  to  reel ;  the 
blinding  glare  of  the  sun  was  gone  for  an  instant,  and  ho 
stumbled  on  as  in  a  dream.  Then  he  nearly  fell  over 
forward,  and  he  knew  that  he  had  slept  by  the  painful 
start  of  awaking.  He  looked  dreamily  at  the  rough  soil 
by  the  side  of  the  trail,  dimly  longing  to  lie  down  and 
sleep,  sleep,  sleep. 

Johnny  said,  "  Oh  my  !  Arty  !  what  big  black  cattle !  " 

Arty  looked  languidly  across  the  river,  which  was  here 
only  a  narrow,  woody  creek.  In  an  instant  his  sleepiness 
was  gone. 

"  Buffalo  1  buffalo  ?  "  he  shouted,  and,  very  wide  awake 
indend,  ran  back  to  the  wagon.  He  was  in  a  fever  of  ex 
citement,  and  the  news  he  brought  set  his  comrades  into 
commotion.  Each  rushed  for  his  favorite  fire-arm.  Tom 
extracted  his  long-unused  revolver  from  the  wagon,  where 
it  lay  unloaded. 

"  Now,  boys,  we  can't  all  go  over  the  creek,"  said  Hi. 
u  You,  Tom,  stay  here  with  the  team.  Mont,  Arty,  and 
I  will  go  over  and  see  if  we  can  knock  over  a  brace  of 
them  buffalo." 

Tom  handled  his  revolver  with  a  very  bad  grace,  but  wad 
mollified  when  Johnny  said  he  •urould  stay,  and  perhap* 


H4  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

they  might  see  the  buffalo  cross  over  ar.d  break  through 
the  woods  below.  The  banks  of  the  creek  were  tilled  with 
a  thick  growth  of  box-elders,  but  through  some  of  the  gaps 
they  could  see  five  buffalo  quietly  feeding  in  a  Y-shaped 
meadow  formed  by  the  junction  of  two  small  branches  cf 
Wood  River. 

"  We  must  get  above  them,"  said  Hi,  as  they  were  recon- 
noitering,  "  or  they  will  make  off  by  that  open  place.  Ii 
we  take  'era  in  the  rear  they  can't  mizzle  so  easy-like." 

Mont  thought  it  unsafe  to  go  to  the  upper  part  of  the 
meadow,  because  the  wind  came  from  that  direction.  "And 
they  are  very  sensitive  to  any  unusual  odor  in  the  air," 
added  Arthur.  "  They  can  smell  a  man  two  miles  off, 
when  they  are  to  the  leeward."  The  boy  was  trembling 
with  excitement  at  the  sight  of  this  large  game,  but  he  re 
membered  his  natural  history,  for  all  that.  Even  as  he 
spoke  one  of  the  feeding  buffalo  lifted  his  large  shaggy 
head  and  sniffed  suspiciously  to  the  windward. 

The  three  young  fellows  separated,  Arthur  going  down 
the  creek,  Hi  up  toward  the  open,  and  Mont  crossing  in 
the  middle  of  the  Y,  directly  opposite  where  the  animals 
were  feeding.  They  were  huge  fellows,  ponderously  mov 
ing  about  and  nibbling  the  short,  tender  grass.  Their 
humped  shoulders  were  covered  with  dark,  shaggy  hair, 
and  their  long,  beard-like  dewlaps  nearly  swept  the  ground 
as  they  bent  their  heads  to  graze.  They  were  not  in  very 
good  condition,  apparently,  and  the  hide  of  one  of  them 
was  clouded  with  a  dingy,  yellowish  tinge.  "  Just  like  our 
old  buffalo- robe,"  secretly  commented  Arthur  to  hiir^elf, 
as  he  lay  breathless,  near  the  creek,  waiting  for  a  signal 
from  Hi. 

Suddenly,  to  his  amazement,  a  shot  burst  out  from  tho 
orush  on  the  farther  side  of  the  meadow,  and,  as  the 


'•  •     p- ' '     '  1 

viM^; 


JIMjjii^.jj^ 


SOME  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  S3 

alanned  animals  dashed  away  like  cats,  another  report 
banged  out  from  the  sair.e  spot.  The  buffalo,  scattering  in 
different  directions,  were  almost  immediately  out  of  reach. 
Two  pitched  down  into  the  creek  near  where  they  were 
feeding  and  disappeared  in  the  woods  beyond.  One  broke 
through  the  timber  just  below  where  Arthur  was  posted; 
scrambled  across  the  stream,  and,  with  incredible  agility, 
crashed  through  into  the  road  near  the  wagon,  where  Torn 
gallantly,  but  ineffectually,  assaulted  him  with  his  "  pep 
per-box  "  revolver  as  he  galloped  away.  The  fourth  raced 
up  the  Y-shaped  meadow,  receiving  a  shot  each  from 
Mont's  musket  and  Hi's  rifle  in  his  rapid  flight.  The  fifth 
made  as  if  he  would  plunge  down  into  the  creek  at  the 
foot  of  the  meadow,  but,  baulked  by  something,  turned 
and  raced  up  the  side  of  the  triangle  next  the  road,  head 
ing  directly  for  Arthur,  who  was  concealed  behind  a  bush. 
"  Now  or  never,"  said  the  boy,  with  his  heart  standing  still 
and  his  eye  glancing  along  the  sights  of  his  rifle.  The  buf 
falo  was  coming  directly  toward  him,  his  head  down  and 
his  enormous  feet  pounding  the  earth.  Arthur  fired,  and 
the  buffalo  swerved  sharply  to  the  right ;  at  the  same  in 
stant  another  shot  came  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
meadow.  The  buffalo  ambled  on  for  a  few  paces,  fell  on 
his  knees,  dug  his  horns  madly  into  the  ground,  rolled 
over  ou  his  side,  and  was  still. 

As  Arthur,  scarcely  believing  his  eyes,  ran  out  into  tho 
open,  a  tall  young  fellow,  carrying  a  double-barreled  shot 
gun,  rushed  up  from  the  other  side,  and  drawing  hi» 
hunting-knife,  cut  the  animal's  throat.  There  was  no 
need.  The  great  creature  was  dead. 

"  My  fust  buffalo,"  said  the  stranger,  drawing  himself 
jp  proudly.  Arthur  looked  on,  with  his  heart  beating, 
and  said,  "  I  fired  at  him  toe  " 


8e  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

All  this  took  place  in  a  very  few  minutes,  The  firing 
in  all  directions  was  almost  simultaneous.  Mont  and  Hi 
came  running  up,  chagrined  at  their  ill  luck,  but  excited 
by  the  sight  of  the  first  slain  buffalo. 

"  Who  shot  him  \  "  eagerly  cried  Hi,  who  had  not  seen 
what  happened  below  him. 

"Well,  I  allow  that  I'm  the  fortnit  individual," said  the 
stranger.  "  Leastways,  thar's  my  mark,"  and  he  inserted 
his  finger  into  a  smooth  round  hole  in  the  centre  of  the 
animal's  forehead,  directly  between  and  a  little  above  the 
eyes. 

"  That's  just  where  I  aimed,"  said  Arthur,  with  some 
excitement. 

"No,  little  chap,"  said  the  stranger,  superciliously  ;  "  I 
seen  you  shoot,  and  your  ball  must  'a  gone  clean  over  him. 
Mine's  a  slug.  No  or'nery  rifle  ball's  goin'  to  kill  a 
critter  like  this,"  and  he  gave  the  dead  monster  a  touch 
with  his  boot. 

"  Let's  look  at  that  ball,"  said  Mont,  curiously,  as  the 
emigrant  handled  one  of  the  clumsy  sluga  which  had  been 
fitted  for  the  big  bore  of  his  gun.  Taking  it  in  his  hand 
and  glancing  at  the  wound  in  the  head  of  the  buffalo,  he 
stooped  to  put  it  into  the  wound.  The  skull  was  pierced 
with  a  sharply  defined  hole.  The  stranger's  slug  rested 
in  the  edge  of  it  like  a  ball  in  a  cup. 

"  That  ball  don't  go  into  that  hole,  stranger,"  said  Mont 
"  The  mate  of  it  never  went  in  there.  Give  me  a  ball, 
Arty."  -  And  Mont,  taking  one  of  Arty's  rifle-balls, 
slipped  it  in  at  the  wound  ;  it  dropped  inside  and  was 
gone. 

"  It's  a  clear  case,  Cap,"  said  Hi.  "  You  may  as  well 
give  it  up.  That  buffalo  belongs  to  our  camp,  and  ArtyJ» 
the  boy  that  fetched  him — you  bet  ye." 


SOME  NEW  ACQ UAINTANCES.  87 

"Well,"  said  the  stranger,  discontentedly,  "  thar'a  no 
neod  o'  jawin'  about  it.     I  allow  thar'a  meat  enough  foi 
all  hands.     I'll  pitch  in  and  help  dress  the  critter,  anj 
how,"  and  he  stripped  to  work. 

There  was  certainly  no  need  of  disputing  over  the  dead 
Iriffalo.  It  was  Arthur's  game,  however,  clearly  enough. 
He  received  the  congratulations  of  his  friends  with  natu- 
ral  elation,  but  with  due  modesty.  He  crossed  the  creek 
again  for  knives  to  help  prepare  the  buffalo  meat  for 
immediate  use.  Barnard  had  come  tearing  back  down 
the  road  at  the  sound  of  fire-arms,  and  now  stood  waiting 
with,  "  What  luck  ?  what  luck  ?  "  as  Arty  waded  the 
creek,  yet  unconscious  of  his  having  been  up  to  his  waist 
in  the  stream  a  few  minutes  before. 

Arty  told  his  story  with  some  suppresssd  excitement, 
but  without  any  self-glorification.  The  water  fairly  stood 
in  Barnard's  joyful  eyes  as  he  clapped  his  young  brother 
on  the  back  and  said,  "  Good  for  you,  my  old  pard." 
You  ace  Barnard  was  beginning  to  catch  the  slang  of  the 
plains. 

They  camped  right  there  and  then.  The  buffalo  was 
dressed  and  the  choice  parts  cut  off  and  cooled  in  the  air, 
for  the  sun  was  now  low  and  night  came  on.  The  stran 
ger's  comrades,  camped  on  the  north  side  of  Wood  River, 
came  over  and  helped  the  party  of  amateur  butchers,  and 
earned  their  share  of  fresh  meat,  which  was  all  they  could 
carry  away  and  take  care  of.  This  was  a  luxury  in  the 
camp.  The  emigrants  had  had  almost  no  fresh  meat 
since  leaving  the  Missouri  River.  Small  game  was 
scarce,  and  only  a  few  birds,  shot  at  rare  intervals,  had 
given  variety  to  their  daily  fare. 

The  beys  stood  expectantly  around  the  camp-stove  as 
the  operation  of  frying  buffalo  steaks  went  on  under  the 


88  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Biiperintendence  of  Mont  and  Arthur.  Sniffing  the  de 
licious  odor  of  the  supper  which  had  been  so  unexpectedly 
given  them,  Barnard  said,  "  Obliged  to  you,  Arty,  for 
this  fresh  beef.  You  know  I  hate  bacon." 

"  And  the  best  of  it  is,"  added  little  Johnny,  "  there's 
enough  of  it  to  go  round." 

"  Which  is  more  than  some  chaps  can  say  of  their  pie," 
said  Barnard. 

Arty  raised  his  hot  face  from  the  frying-pan  and 
laughed. 


A  MISADVENTURE.  £9 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  MISADVENTURE. 

THE  next  few  days  of  the  journey  were  toilsome  and 
nncomfortable.  The  nights  were  hot,  and  cur  emigrants 
were  greatly  annoyed  with  mosquitoes,  so  that  Hi  gave 
notice  that  he  should  go  crazy  if  they  did  not  "  let  up  "  on 
him.  Long  rains  had  swollen  the  streams;  the  Platte 
overflowed  its  banks  in  some  places,  and  the  bottom  lands 
opposite  Fort  Kearney  were  overflowed.  The  boys  had 
depended  on  crossing  the  river  for  the  sake  of  visiting  the 
fort,  which  was  on  the  south  side,  but  they  were  prevented 
by  the  high  water.  They  had  no  special  errand  at  the 
fort,  but  as  they  had  now  been  a  month  on  the  road,  they 
thought  it  would  be  pleasant  to  go  over  and  "  see  where 
folks  lived,"  as  Barney  expressed  it.  He  and  Mont  made 
the  attempt,  but  gave  it  up  after  wading  -  a  long  distance 
through  the  overflow,  without  reaching  deep  water.  This 
was  a  disappointment,  and  they  pushed  on  with  a  slight 
feeling  of  loneliness.  They  all  wanted  to  see  what  a 
frontier  fort  was  like,  though  they  knew  that  it  was  only 
a  collection  of  substantial  buildings — barracks  and  store 
houses — surrounded  by  a  stockade.  There  was  something 
romantic  and  adventurous  about  a  military  post  in  the 
Indian  country,  which  to  Arthur,  at  least,  was  very  attrac 
tive.  The  next  fort  on  their  route  was  Fort  Laramie,  and 
to  this  stage  on  their  journey  they  now  passed  on, 
keeping  by  the  north  bank  of  the  Platte. 


tfO  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

There  was  no  occasion  for  loneliness,  however,  as  tn« 
road  was  now  all  alive  with  teams.  It  was  the  custom  foi 
emigrant  companies  to  combine  in  trains  of  several  com 
panies  each.  These  stopped  sometimes,  for  a  day  or  two 
at  a  time,  in  order  to  rest,  repair  the  wear  and  tear  oi 
teams,  and  get  ready  for  a  fresh  start.  On  such  occasions 
the  camp  was  busy,  though  our  young  fellows  enjoyed  the 
rest  when  it  came.  It  was  tedious  work,  marching  all  day, 
camping  at  night,  packing  up  and  beginning  another 
march  next  day.  They  knew  they  must  be  three  or  four 
months  crossing  the  continent,  and  a  "  lay-by  "  of  two  or 
three  days  was  always  welcome  ;  and  nobody  thought  such 
a  stoppage  was  a  serious  delay.  After  a  few  weeks,  every 
body  got  over  all  feverish  eagerness  to  be  the  first  at  the 
mines.  Now  and  then  some  small  party  of  horsemen, 
lightly  equipped  and  traveling  rapidly,  pushed  by  the 
body  of  emigrants,  their  faces  eagerly  set  toward  the  land 
of  gold,  and  scarcely  taking  time  to  sleep. 

From  such  rapid  travelers  as  these  our  boys  ascertained 
who  was  behind,  and  they  soon  learned  the  names,  origin, 
and  character  of  most  of  the  companies  between  the  Sierra 
Nevada  and  the  Missouri.  While  they  were  camped  for 
a  day's  rest — Sunday's  rest — near  Dry  Creek,  Bush  came 
up  with  his  little  cow  and  cart.  He  had  been  traveling 
with  a  Wisconsin  company,  but  had  left  them  behind 
when  near  Fort  Kearney  and  had  pushed  on  by  himself. 
Bush  was  full  of  news.  He  had  passed  several  parties  of 
whom  oui  boys  had  heard ;  and  he  had  been  passed  by 
several  others,  some  of  whom  were  ahead,  and  others  of 
whom  were  again  behind.  It  was  in  this  way  that  the 
intelligence  on  the  trail  went  back  and  forth.  Emigrants 
thus  learned  all  about  the  fords,  the  grass,  wood  and  water, 
and  the  condition  of  tie  road  before  them.  Somehow., 


A  MISADVENTURE.  91 

the  gossip  of  the  great  moving  population  of  tlie  plains 
flowed  to  and  fro,  just  as  it  does  in  a  small  village.  Men 
sat  around  their  camp-fires  at  night,  or  lounged  in  the  sun, 
of  a  leisure  day,  and  retailed  to  each  other  all  the  infor 
mation  they  picked  up  as  they  traveled.  Every  man  waa 
a  newspaper  to  the  next  man  he  met.  There  was  110  news 
from  far  countries,  none  from  towns,  and  only  a  very  little 
from  the  land  to  which  they  were  bound.  The  long 
column  of  emigration  that  stretched  across  the  continent 
had  its  own  world  of  news.  It  was  all  compressed  in  the 
Bpace  that  lay  between  the  Missouri  and  the  Sierra 
Nevada.  Thousands  of  camp-fires  sparkled  at  night 
along  the  winding  trail  that  ran  on  and  on  across  the 
heart  of  the  continent.  Thousands  of  wagons  moved 
slowly  to  the  westward,  an  almost  unbroken  procession 
through  an  unknown  land ;  by  each  fire  was  a  community 
of  wanderers;  each  wagon  was  a  moving  mansion  car 
rying  its  own  family  with  its  worldly  possessions,  and 
laden  with  the  beginnings  of  a  new  State  beyond  tho 
mountains. 

Just  now,  camped  on  a  level  greensward,  with  a  bright 
June  sun  lighting  up  the  landscape,  our  boy  emigran th 
en  joyed  their  day  of  rest  very  much.  They  were  grouped 
under  the  shelter  of  the  tent,  which  was  caught  up  at  tho 
sides  to  let  in  the  air,  for  the  weather  was  now  growing 
hot. 

"  'Pears  to  me."  said  Bush,  "  this  tent  is  mighty  fine, 
but  it  lets  the  sun  in.  It's  too  all-fired  white  inside." 

"Bush  likes  to  camp  under  his  go-cart,"  laughed  II i. 
"  But  I  allow  a  tent  is  uncommonly  handy  when  it  coinei 
on  to  rain." 

"  As  for  the  sun  shining  in  through  the  cloth,"  said 
Mont,  "I  think  I  see  a  way  to  help  that."  Su  he  canghl 


92  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

up  one  or  two  of  the  blankets  which  were  opened  out  Dn  tn« 
grass  to  air,  and  flung  them  over  the  ridge-pole. 

"  You  are  a  powerful  knowin'  creeter,  Mont,"  said  Bush, 
admiringly.  "A  feller'd  suppose  you  had  been  on  the 
plains  all  your  life.  And  you  a  counter-jumper  at  that/'' 

Barney  remonstrated  that  Mont  was  not  a  counter- 
jumper.  "Besides,"  he  added,  "it  don't  follow  that  a 
young  fellow  don't  know  anything  beyond  his  counter 
because  he  has  spent  some  of  his  days  behind  one." 

"  Jess  so,  jess  so,"  said  Bush.  "  Mont  is  on  hand  here 
to  prove  just  that.  There's  fellers  as  takes  to  rough  work 
and  plains  tricks  and  doin's  as  a  cat  does  to  cream.  Then 
again  there's  fellers  as  ain't  no  more  use  around  a  team 
than  a  cow  won  Id  be  in  a  parlor." 

Mont  listened  with  some  amusement  to  this  conversa 
tion,  as  he  lay  on  the  ground  looking  up  at  the  shaded 
roof  of  the  tent.  He  explained,  "  You  see,  Bush,  I  like 
teaming,  roughing  it,  and  living  out  in  the  open  air. 
Would  you  like  to  tend  store,  lay  bricks,  or  work  in  a  fac 
tory?" 

"  Nary  time,"  rejoined  Bush. 

"I  don't  believe  you  would  take  to  any  such  business, 
nor  do  well  in  it,  if  you  were  put  to  it-  Do  you  ? " 

"No.  If  Pwas  to  be  sot  to  work,  at  regular  work,  you 
know,  why,  I  should  go  right  straight  down  to  where 
flour's  fifteen  dollars  a  bar'l,  and  no  money  to  buy  with 
at  that.  Oh,  no,  I'm  gay  and  chipper  at  trappin',  lumberin', 
gcttin'  out  rock,  teamin',  or  any  of  them  light  chores ;  but 
c.ome  to  put  me  to  work,  regular  work,  I'm  just  miser 
able." 

"  Then  there's  Arty,"  put  in  Barney.  "  lie's  all  for 
animals.  Just  see  that  steer  follow  him  round  aftez 
«ugar." 


A  MISADVENTURE.  03 

Tige  had  been  loitering  around  the  camp  instead  o* 
keeping  with  the  cattle,  which  grazed  near  by,  and  Arty, 
having  allowed  him  to  smell  of  a  little  sugar  which  he 
carried  in  his  hand,  was  enticing  him  abcut  the  camping 
ground. 

"  Dreffle  waste  of  sugar,"  commented  Tom. 

"Never  you  mind  about  the  sugar,"  said  Hiram,  re 
provingly.  "  That's  the  knowingest  critter  on  the  plains ; 
and  if  Arty  has  a  mind  to  give  him  a  spoonful,  now  and 
then,  it's  all  right.  We've  got  enough  to  carry  us  through." 

Hearing  the  debate,  Arty  approached  the  tent,  holding 
out  his  hand  toward  the  docile  Tige,  who  still  followed 
him,  snuffing  the  coveted  sugar. 

"  Take  care !  take  care  !  don't  come  in  here !  "  yelled 
Hi.  But  Arty  kept  on,  laughing  at  Tige,  who  seemed 
also  to  be  much  amused.  Arty  stepped  over  the  body  of 
Barney,  who  lounged  by  the  door,  the  steer  immediately 
following  him. 

O 

"  He'll  wallop  your  tent  over,"  shouted  Bush,  but  Tige, 
still  stepping  after  his  master  as  lightly  as  a  full-grown 
steer  could  step,  kept  on  with  his  nose  close  to  the  boy's 
open  hand,  and  drawing  long  breaths  as  he  smelled  the 
sugar.  Arty  circled  about  the  interior  of  the  little  tent, 
and  over  the  prostrate  forms  of  his  comrades,  who  hugged 
the  ground  in  terror  lest  the  unwieldy  beast  should  trample 
on  them.  They  were  too  much  surprised  to  move,  and 
Tige  marched  after  Arty,  turning  around  inside  the  canvas 
house  as  gingerly  as  if  he  had  always  lived  in  one. 

"  Why,  he  is  as  graceful  as  a  kitten,  and  he  steps  ovei 
you  as  if  he  were  treading  among  egg-shells,"  said  Arty 
shaking  with  fun.  ''  See  how  carefully  he  misses  Ili's  bio 
feet.  Why,  Tige  is  almost  as  spry  as  you  are,  Hi." 

"  if  Tige  knocks  d  awn  that  pole  I'll  trounce  y 0^1  witl; 


94  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

it,'*  said  Hi,  whc  did  not  relish  the  common  camp  joke 
about  his  large  feet.  But  the  wise  little  steer  passed 
safely  out  by  the  front  of  the  tent,  having  gone  in  at  one 
side  of  the  pole  and  out  at  the  other,  without  doing  any 
damage.  lie  was  rewarded  with  the  sugar  which  he  had 
pursued  into  the  presence  of  so  much  danger,  and  he  lay 
down  at  a  distance,  contemplating  the  group  which  he  hud 
just  visited. 

"  I  think  you  said  something  about  a  cow  in  a  parlor, 
Bush,"  said  Arty.  "  What  do  you  think  of  a  steer  in  a 
tent  ? " 

"  Well,  youngster,  between  you  and  me  and  the  post,  I 
think  the  best  place  for  me,  as  I  said  afore,  is  out  of  doors. 
It's  close,  this  living  in  a  tent ;  and  when  it  comes  tc 
makin'  cattle  to  hum  in  one  of  'em,  I  aint  there." 

Tige's  friendship  for  his  young  master  was  put  to  the 
test  the  very  next  day.  It  was  a  bright  Monday  morning 
when  they  reached  Dry  Creek.  But  the  creek  was  by  no 
means  dry.  Its  steep  banks  were  slippery  writh  moisture, 
and  four  or  five  feet  of  water  flowed  through  its  bed.  A 
large  number  of  teams  had  been  passing  over,  and  when 
our  young  emigrants  came  up,  there  were  several  com 
panies  laboriously  making  their  way  across,  or  waiting  an 
opportunity  to  strike  into  the  trail ;  except  at  one  place, 
a  crossing  was  almost  impossible.  The  wagons  were 
"  blocked  up,"  as  the  water  was  deep  enough  in  places  to 
flow  into  the  wagon  boxes.  "Blocking  up"  was  done  by 
drivirg  wide  blocks  of  wood  under  the  box  or  body  of  the 
wagon,  said  box  being  loosely  fitted  into  the  bed  or  frame 
work.  Thus  raised  on  these,  the  body  of  the  wagon  ii 
kept  in  place  by  the  uprights  at  the  sides,  and  is  set  ujr 
high  enough  to  be  drawn  over  an  ordinary  stream  withoul 
wetting  its  contents. 


A  MISADVENTURE.  9ft 

The  descent  into  the  creek  was  no  steeper  thua  the 
rcay  out  on  the  other  side.  It  was  hard  enough  to  get 
down  to  the  stream  without  damage.  It  would  be  still 
more  difficult  to  get  out.  Those  who  were  then  crossing 
made  a  prodigious  racket  shouting  to  their  animals,  at 
each  other,  and  generally  relieving  their  excited  feelings 
with  noise  as  they  worked  through  the  difficulty. 

"  We  shall  have  to  double  up,  and  there's  nobody  to 
double  up  with  us,"  said  Barnard,  ruefully. 

The  boys  had  resorted  to  the  expedient  of  "  doubling 
up,"  or  uniting  their  team  with  that  of  some  passing  ac 
quaintance,  before  this.  The  spirit  of  good-fellowship 
prevailed,  and  two  or  more  parties  would  combine  and 
pull  each  other's  wagons  through  by  putting  on  each  the 
horses  or  cattle  of  the  whole,  until  the  hardest  place  was 
eafely  passed.  Here,  however,  all  the  travelers  but  them 
selves  were  busy  with  their  own  affairs.  There  was  no 
body  ready  to  "  double  up  "  with  others. 

"  Howdy  ?  youngsters,"  said  a  languid,  discouraged- 
looking  man,  coming  around  from  behind  a  red-covered 
wagon.  "  Powerful  bad  crossing  this  yere." 

"Yes,"  said  Arthur,  who  immediately  recognized  him 
as  the  man  who  could  not  make  his  fire  burn  when  they 
were  camped  near  Pape's.  Just  then  the  sallow  woman 
put  her  head  out  of  the  wagon,  and  said,  "  Glad  to  see  you 
Me  baby's  wuss." 

"  She  takes  yer  for  a  doctor,  Arty,"  whispered  Hi,  who 
remembered  that  Arthur  had  tended  the  sick  baby  while 
ths  mother  was  cooking  supper. 

"  We  'uns  is  bavin'  a  rough  time,  ye  bet  yer  life,  but 
I  allow  we'll  pull  through.  Want  to  double  np,  you 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mont.     "  This  is  a  pretty  bad  crossing 


06  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS 

and,  as  you  have  a  strong  team,  we  should  be  glad  to  join 
forces  and  go  across  together." 

"  Jiue  '\  Oh,  yes,  we'll  hitch  up  with  ye.  Things  ia 
cutting  up  rough,  and  my  old  woman  she  allows  we  ain't 
goin'  through.  " 

"  Not  going  through  ?" 

"  Oh,  you  keep  shut,  will  ye,  ole  man?"  said  the  woman 
from  the  wagon.  If  you  had  a  sick  baby  to  nuss,  you 
wouldn't  be  so  peart." 

"  I  aint  so  peart,"  said  the  husband,  grimly.  "  But  I 
allow  we'll  double  up,  seem'  it's  you.  I  war  agoin'  to 
wait  for  Si  Beetles, but  we'll  just  snake  your  wagon  over; 
then  we'll  come  back  for  mine." 

The  blocks  were  got  out  and  put  under  the  wagon-bed, 
and  the  stranger's  cattle  were  hitched  on  ahead  of  those 
of  our  boys.  The  wheels  were  chained  together,  front 
and  rear,  so  that  they  could  not  turn  and  hurry  the  wagon 
down  the  steep  bank. 

"  Ye' 11  have  to  wade  for  it,  boys ;  you'd  better  strip," 
advised  Messer,  for  that  was  the  stranger's  name. 

"  Oh,  it's  only  a  short  distance,"  said  Mont,  measuring 
.he  width  of  the  creek  with  his  eye,  and  observing  the 
depth  to  which  the  men  then  in  the  water  were  wading. 
"  Roll  up  your  trousers,  boys,  and  we  '11  try  it  that  way." 

The  party,  except  Hi,  who  sat  in  the  forepart  of  the 
wagon  and  drove,  rolled  up  their  trousers ;  and  the  chained 
wagon,  drawn  by  four  pair  of  cattle,  pitched  down  the 
muddy  bank,  attended  on  either  side  by  the  young  emi 
grants,  Bush,  and  Messer.  Slipping  and  sliding,  the^ 
reached  the  bed  of  the  stream  in  safety,  unlocked  the 
wheels  and  plunged  boldly  in,  though  the  cattle  were  be 
wildered  by  the  cries  of  the  owners  and  the  confusion  of 
the  crowd  crossing  the  creek. 


A  MISADVENTURE.  97 

By  dint  of  much  urging  and  some  punching  from  be 
hind,  the  wagon  was  "  snaked  "  up  the  opposite  bank,  and 
our  boys  drew  breath  a  few  minutes  before  taking  hold  of 
llie  rest  of  their  job. 

"  Laws-a-massy  me ! "  cried  the  poor  woman,  as  tho 
team  slid  down  the  bank.  "  This  is  wuss  than  get-out.  I  'd 
sooner  wade  the  branch  myself."  But,  before  she  could 
utter  any  more  complaints,  the  wagon  was  at  the  bottom 
of  the  slope  and  the  chains  taken  from  the  wheels.  The 
cattle  went  into  the  stream  with  some  reluctance,  and  Hi, 
who  was  driving,  yelled  "  Haw,  there,  haw  ! "  with  great 
anxiety.  But  the  beasts  would  not  "  haw."  Little  Tigc 
held  in  now  with  sullen  courage ;  the  rest  of  the  team 
persisted  in  pushing  up  stream.  Arty  and  Barnard  were 
on  the  "  off  "  or  upper  side  of  the  team,  but  they  could 
not  keep  the  oxen  from  running  wildly  away  from  the 
opposite  bank.  The  animals  were  panic-stricken  and 
angry ;  turning  short  around  they  were  likely  to  overturn 
the  wagon  ;  Arty  rushed  out  to  the  leading  yoke  and  tried 
to  head  it  off.  Tige  was  in  the  second  yoke,  resolutely 
pulling  back  his  mate,  Molly.  It  was  in  vain.  Bally,  tho 
DX  just  behind  Tige,  made  a  vicious  lunge  at  Arty,  who, 
n  dodging  to  escape  the  horns  of  the  creature,  slipped 
and  fell  headlong  into  the  water,  there  about  up  to  his 
waist.  Immediately,  he  was  struggling  among  the  cattle, 
where  he  could  not  swim,  and  was  in  danger  of  being 
trampled  by  the  excited  beasts.  Hi,  shouted  with  alarm, 
and,  all  clothed  as  he  was,  leaped  from  the  wagon. 
There  was  no  need.  Before  any  of  the  party  could 
reach  him,  Arty  had  scrambled  out  and  had  laid  hold  of 
Tige's  head,  that  sagacious  brute  having  stood  perfectly 
Btill  and  stooping  as  his  young  master  floundered  under 
his  belly. 

5 


98  THE  BO  7  EMIGRANTS. 

Dripping  with  muddy  water,  and  breathless,  Art? 
struggled  to  his  feet  just  as  Hi,  similarly  drenched,  waded 
up  to  him.  This  all  took  place  in  an  instant,  and  the 
cattle,  left  for  a  moment  to  themselves,  sharply  turned 
toward  the  bank  down  which  they  had  come,  still  heading 
"p  the  stream.  The  wagon  toppled  on  two  wheels,  quiv 
ered,  and  went  over  witli  a  tremendous  splash. 

Everybody  rushed  to  the  wreck  and  dragged  out  the 
woman  and  her  sick  baby.  Both  were  wet  through  and 
through.  The  cattle  stood  still  now.  The  water  gurgled 
merrily  through  the  overturned  wagon,  on  which  the  owner 
looked  silently  for  a  moment,  and  then  said: 

"Just  my  ornery  luck!  " 

"Luck,  man!"  said  Mont,  impatiently.  "Why  don't 
yon  bear  a  hand  and  right  up  your  wagon  before  your 
stuff  is  all  spoiled  ?  " 

"  Thar's  whar  yer  right,  strannger,"  replied  the  poor 
fellow.  "  But  this  is  the  wust  streak  yit.  It  sorter  stalls 
me." 

Help  came  from  the  various  companies  on  both  sides  of 
the  creek,  and  Messer's  wagon  was  soon  set  up  on  its 
wheels  again,  though  nearly  all  of  its  load  was  well  soaked. 
The  woman  and  her  baby  were  taken  out  on  to  dry  land 
and  comforted  by  some  women  who  were  with  the  wagons 
already  on  the  farther  side  of  the  creek.  When  the  party 
finally  struggled  up  and  out  of  this  unfortunate  place, 
they  found  that  Messer's  wife  had  been  taken  in  and 
cared  for  at  a  wagon  which,  covered  with  striped  tick 
ing,  stood  apart  from  the  others,  with  the  cattle  unyoked 
near  by. 

"  Why,  there's  Nance  !  "  said  Johnny ;  and,  as  he  spoke 
that  young  woman  descended  from  the  wagon  and  ay 
proached. 


A  MISADVENTURE. 


"  Ye're  wet,  young  feller,"  she  remarked  to  Arty. 

"  Yes,"  he  responded,  wringing  out  his  trousers-lega  as 
as  he  could.  "  We  were  with  the  team  that  upset,  and 
I  wua  upset  first." 

"  Jest  like  ye.  Always  in 
sonic  body's  mess.  I'd  lend  ye 
a  go  and,  but  haven't  got  but 
one." 

"  Thank  you  kindly.  I  don't 
think  your  gowns  would  fit 
me.  But  that  yeast  of  yours 
did  first-rate."  Arthur  thought 
lightly  of  his  own  troubles. 

"  I  k  no  wed  it  would.  Have 
you  kept  your  risin'  right 
along  ? " 

"  Oh  yes,  we  have  saved  lea 
ven  from  day  to  day,  and  so 
we  have  'riz  bread,'  as  you 
call  it,  every  time  we  bake." 

"  Glad  of  it.  We'll  have  to 
divide  with  these  Missouri 
folks.  I  reckon  they've  lost 
all  their  little  fixin's ;  but 
then  they  use  salt  risin'. 
Them  ornery  critters  from 
Pike  always  do." 

The  Missouri ans  were  in  bad  plight.  Whatever  waa 
liable  to  damage  by  water  was  spoiled,  and  our  party  of 
emigrants  felt  obliged  to  stop  and  help  the  poor  fellow 
unload  his  wagon,  spread  out  his  stuff  to  dry,  and  get  him 
self  together  again  for  a  fresh  start.  The  sun  shone 
brightly  and  the  weather  was  favorable  to  the  unhappy 


NANCK  APPEABS. 


100  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

emigrant,  whc  sat  around  among  his  wet  goods,  bewail 
ing  his  hard  Ijick,  while  his  chance  acquaintances  repaired 
damages  acd  saved  what  they  could  of  his  effects. 

His  wife,  loosely  clad  in  a  dress  telonging  to  Nance's 
mother, — a  large  and  jolly  woman, — fished  out  from  the 
crushed  wagon-bows,  where  it  had  been  suspended  in  a 
cotton  bag,  the  wreck  of  an  extraordinary  bonnet.  It  waa 
made  of  pink  and  yellow  stuff,  and  had  been  a  gorgeoua 
affair.  She  regarded  it  sadly,  and  said  :  "  It  was  the  gay 
est  bunnit  I  ever  had." 

Nance  contemplated  the  parti-colored  relic  with  some 
admiration,  but  said  : 

"  Just  you  hang  that  there  up  in  the  sun  alongside  of 
that  feller,  and  they'll  both  on  'em  come  out  all  right. 
Fact  is,"  she  said,  condescending  to  approve  Arty,  "  lie's 
all  right,  anyhow;  and  if  that  big  chap  hadn't  jumped 
out  of  the  wagon  and  left  the  cattle  to  take  care  of  them 
selves,  the  wagon  wouldn't  have  gone  over.  So  now  ! " 

"  But  Hi  thought  Arty  was  getting  killed,"  remonstrated 
Johnny.  "  So  he  jumped  out  into  the  water,  head  over 
heels,  when  he  saw  Arty  fall." 

"  Don't  care  for  all  that,"  retorted  Nance,  with  severity. 
"  Te're  altogether  too  chipper.  If  yer  Hi  hadn't  upset 
that  wagon,  I  might  have  seen  this  yer  bonnet  before  it 
was  mashed." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Arty.  "  Perhaps  Mont  will  show 
JDTI  how  to  straighten  out  that  bcnnet,  when  he  has  fin 
ished  mending  Messer's  wagon-bows.  Mont  knows  almost 
everything." 

"  Who  i&  that  yer  Mont,  as  you  call  him,  anyhow  ?  *' 
asked  Nance. 

"  He's  from  Boston,  is  real  smart,  and  just  about  kuowi 
everything,  as  I  told  you," 


A  MISADVENTURE.  10J 

"Oho!  and  that's  why  you  are  called  'The  Boston 
Boys,'  is  it  ?  " 

"  But  they  call  us  '  The  Lee  County  Boys.  We  came 
from  Lee  County,  Illinois." 

"  Lee  County,  Illin  ;>y !  "  repeated  the  girl,  with  a  know 
ing  air.  "  Folks  on  the  prairie  calls  you  '  The  .Boston 
Boys.'  So  now  1 " 


THE  130  Y  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTEK  X. 

AMONG   THE   BUFFALOES. 

WHILE  the  wagon  was  yet  heavily  loaded,  the  boy! 
spared  the  oxen,  and  so  seldom  rode.  At  first,  the  mem 
ber  of  the  party  who  drove  the  team  was  permitted  to  sit 
in  the  wagon,  part  of  the  time.  But  the  roads  were  now 
very  hard  for  the  cattle,  and  so  all  hands  walked.  Old 
Jim's  back  was  sore  ;  he  could  not  be  saddled,  and  he  was 
left  to  follow  the  team,  which  he  did  with  great  docility. 
The  boys  hardened  the  muscles  of  their  legs,  but  they 
complained  bitterly  of  sore  feet.  Much  walking  and 
poorly  made  boots  had  lamed  them.  The  moccasina 
which  they  wore  at  times  were  more  -uncomfortable  than 
the  cow-hide  boots  they  had  brought  from  home. 

"  Confounded  Indians !  "  complained  Tom,  "  they  don't 
put  no  heels  to  their  moccasins  ;  they  tire  a  fellow's  feet 
just  awful." 

"  Sprinkle  some  whisky  in  your  boots ;  that's  all  the 
use  the  stuff  can  be  to  us  ;  and  whisky  is  good  to  toughen 
jour  feet."  This  was  Mont's  advice. 

"  But  why  don't  the  Indians  put  heels  on  their  moc- 
Cfesins  ?  That's  what  I'd  like  to  know." 

"  "Wh  \ ,  Tom,  it  isn't  natural.  Those  Sioux  that  we  saw 
down  at  Buffalo  Creek  can  outrun  and  outjump  any 
white  man  yon  ever  saw.  They  couldn't  do  it  if  they 
had  beer,  brought  up  with  heels  on  their  moccasins." 

"But  for  all  that,  them  moccasins  are  powerful  vreah 


AMONG  THE  BUFFALOES.  103 

in  the  sole,"  grumbled  Hi.  "'Pears  to  me,  sometimes,. aa 
if  my  feet  was  all  Df  a  blister,  after  traveling  all  day  in 
the  dod-rotted  things.  Hang  Indian  shoemakers,  any 
how  ! " — and  Hiram  contemplated  his  chafed  feet  with 
great  discontent. 

"Then  there's  old  Bally,"  chimed  in  Arty.  "He's 
gone  and  got  lame.  He  don't  wear  moccasins,  though." 

"  But,"  said  Mont,  "  we  may  be  obliged  to  put  moo 
casins  on  him — or,  at  least,  on  his  sore  foot." 

"What  for?" 

"  "Well,  we've  fixed  his  foot  now  two  or  three  times, 
and  he  gets  no  better  of  his  lameness.  We  might  put  a 
leather  shoe,  like  a  moccasin,  filled  with  tar,  on  his  foot. 
That's  good  for  the  foot-rot,  or  whatever  it  is." 

"Gosh!"  said  Hi.  "How  much  that  feller  do 
know ! " 

"  Well,"  laughed  Mont,  "  I  picked  that  up  the  other 
day.  Those  Adair  County  men  said  that  if  Bally  didn't 
get  better,  tar  would  be  healing ;  and  they  said  to  bind  it 
on  with  a  shoe  made  out  of  an  old  boot-leg." 

"  Lucky  I  picked  up  those  boot-legs  you  thought  were 
of  no  use,  Barney  Crogan,"  said  Arthur.  "They'll  be 
just  the  things  for  Bally 's  moccasins." 

The  boys  had  put  up  with  many  discomforts.  Some 
times  they  had  no  water  for  drinking  or  cooking,  except 
what  they  found  in  sloughs  and  swampy  places  by  the 
track.  Often  even  this  poor  supply  was  so  mixed  with 
Jead  grass  and  weeds  that  it  was  necessary  to  strain  it 
before  using  it.  Then,  again,  in  the  long  stretch  which 
they  were  now  traveling  between  Fort  Kearney  and  Fort 
Laramie,  fuel  was  scarce.  Not  a  tree  nor  shrub  was  in 
Bight;  buffalo  chips  were  seldom  to  be  fcund,  and  the 
only  stuff  from  which  a  fire  could  be  made  was  the  dry 


1 04  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

gracis  and  grease-weed  found  in  sterile  spots  among  th€ 
bluffs  above  the  road.  They  were  having  hard  times. 
Along  the  valley  of  the  Platte  heavy  rain-storms  are 
frequent  in  the  summer  time ;  and,  more  than  once,  all 
hands  were  obliged  to  get  up  in  the  night  and  stand  by 
the  tent,  in  a  pelting  rain,  to  keep  it  from  blowing  away. 
One  night,  indeed,  after  bracing  the  tent  all  around  out 
side  with  extra  lines,  they  were  forced  to  stand  on  bun 
dles  and  boxes  inside  and  hold  up  the  ridge-pole,  which 
bent  in  the  force  of  the  gale  and  threatened  to  snap  in 
twain.  And  then  the  mosquitoes  ! 

But  here  was  a  serious  trouble.  Bally  was  a  surly 
animal,  but  he  was  a  powerful  fellow  and  the  best  traveler 
in  the  team.  He  had  been  lame  these  four  days,  and  was 
getting  worse  instead  of  better.  The  boys  had  passed 
many  cattle,  turned  out  on  account  of  their  lameness  by 
those  who  had  gone  before.  They  did  not  like  to  think 
of  turning  out  old  Bally  to  die  by  the  roadside.  Mat 
ters  were  not  so  serious  as  that.  But  Mont  had  said 
almost  under  his  breath :  "  If  we  should  have  to  leave 
Bally—" 

Serious  remedies  were  now  to  be  tried.  The  tar- 
bucket  was  taken  out  from  under  the  wagon,  and  a  shoe 
made  from  one  of  provident  Arty's  boot-legs.  With  the 
assistance  of  Bush,  Mcsser,  and  one  or  two  neighbors  at 
the  camp,  poor  Bally  was  cast  by  suddenly  pulling  on 
ropes  attached  to  one  hind-foot  and  one  fore-foot.  The 
b:g  beast  fell  over  on  his  side  with  a  thump  that  made 
Arty's  heart  jump.  Then  each  person  held  that  pfirt  of 
the  animal  to  which  he  had  previously  been  assigned, 
Nance,  whose  father  was  now  with  them  for  a  time,  looked 
on  with  profound  interest. 

The  struggling  animal  subsided,  after  a  while,  into  »» 


AMONG  THE  BUFFALOES.  1Q5 

angry  quiet  hia  eyes  rolling  wildly  at  Arty  and  Johnny, 
who  sat  on  his  head  to  keep  him  down. 

"  Set  onto  him  heavy,  boys,"  said  Bush.  "  'S  long's  he 
can't  lift  you,  he  can't  lift  his  head ;  and  's  long's  he  can't 
lift  his  head,  he's  got  to  lay  still." 

But  he  did  not  lie  still.  When  the  shoe,  full  of  soft 
lar,  was  fairly  on,  but  not  tied,  Bally  wiggled  his  tail  very 
animatedly,  cuffed  Bush  on  the  side  of  his  head  with  the 
lame  foot,  which  he  suddenly  jerked  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  operators,  and,  with  one  mighty  effort,  threw  up  his 
head,  angrily  brandishing  his  horns  the  while.  Arthur 
and  Johnny  flew  into  the  air,  one  to  the  right  and  one  to 
the  left,  as  Bally's  head  swung  in  either  direction. 
Straggling  to  his  feet,  the  worried  beast  shuffled  off  a  few 
paces,  his  shoe  half-sticking  to  his  foot  in  slip-shod 
fashion ;  then  he  stopped  and  regarded  the  whole  party 
with  profound  disfavor. 

"  Wai,  I  allow  you  are  a  nice  creeter,  you  are  ! "  said 
Hi,  with  disgust.  "  Don't  know  yer  best  friends,  you 
don't,  when  they're  tryin'  to  cure  ye  up." 

"  Why,  he's  as  spry  as  a  cat  and  as  strong  as  an  ox," 
cried  Bush.  "  But  them  boys  is  spryer.  See  'em  go. 
Tore  yer  shirt,  didn't  it,  Arty  ?  " 

"  My  belt  saved  me,"  said  the  boy,  bravely,  exhibiting 
a  huge  rent  in  his  flannel  shirt,  and  a  long  red  streak  on 
the  white  skin  of  his  chest,  where  Bally's  sharp  horn  had 
plunged  under  his  belt  and  sharply  along  his  u  hide,"  as 
Hush  called  it.  Johnny  had  turned  a  somersault,  lighting 
on  his  shoulders,  but  without  serious  damage. 

"  Well,  we've  got  it  all  to  do  over  again,"  -was  Monl'# 

philosophic  comment;  and,  under  his  leadership,  Bally 

was  once  more  thrown  and  held  down  until  the  shoe  vvaa 

drmly  fixed  on  his  foot.     He  walked  off  w.th  a  limp 

5* 


106 


THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


evidently  very  much  puzzled  with  his  first  experiment  if 
wearing  leather  slices. 


MONT. 


"Looks  like  a  bear  in  moccasins,"  said  Hi,  grimly 
t:  Leastways,  he  looks  as  I  allow  a  bear  would  look  in 
moccasins,  or  w:th  one  of  V,m  onto  him.  "Next  time 


AMONG  THE  BUFFALOES.  107 

are  sot  on  a  steer's  head,  Arty,  you  git  w  here  he  can't 
h'ist  you  higher'n  a  kite  when  he  tries  to  git  up." 

"  I  sat  where  I  was  told,  Hi ;  but  1  didn't  weigh 
enough.  That's  what  was  the  matter." 

Their  lame  ox  did  not  keep  his  shoe  on  more  than  a 
day  or  two  at  a  time,  and  the  boys  soon  had  the  disagree 
able  task  of  replacing  it  quite  often.  It  was  a  trouble 
some  affair ;  but  they  were  now  obliged  to  face  the  more 
troublesome  question  of  supplying  his  place,  in  case  it 
became  necessary  to  leave  him  behind.  Bally's  mate  was 
like  him — a  large  and  powerful  ox ;  Tige  and  Molly,  the 
leaders,  were  lighter.  "With  these  three  and  their  horse, 
Old  Jim,  they  might  go  on  ;  but  the  prospect  was  gloomy. 

"  Pity  we  can't  hitch  up  some  of  these  buffaloes  that 
are  running  around  loose,"  said  Barnard,  with  a  personal 
sense  of  the  wastefulness  of  so  many  cattle  going  wild, 
while  they  needed  only  one  draught  animal.  "  Could  we 
catch  one  of  these  critters  and  put  him  into  the  yoke,  I 
wonder  ? " 

"  You  catch  one,  and  I  will  agree  to  yoke  him,"  laughed 
Mont. 

It  was  not  surprising  that  Barney  grumbled  at  the  waste 
of  animal  power,  and  that  a  wild  notion  that  some  of  it 
ought  to  be  made  useful  crossed  his  mind.  The  country 
was  now  covered  with  vast  herds  of  buffaloes,  moving  to 
the  north.  One  day,  Mont  and  Arty  ascended  a  steep 
bluff,  to  the  right  of  the  road,  while  the  wagon  train 
kept  slowly  on  below  them.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  northward,  the  undulating  country  was  literally 
black  with  the  slow-moving  herds.  Here  and  there,  on 
some  conspicuous  eminence,  a  solitary,  shaggy  old  fellow 
stood  relieved  against  the  sky — a  sentinel  over  ths  flowing 
streams  of  dark  brown  animals  below.  They  moved  in 


108  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

battalions,  in  single  files,  by  platoons,  and  in  disorderly 
masses,  stretching  out  in  vast  dark  patches  and  covering 
the  greon  earth.  Before  them  was  grass  and  herbage ; 
behind  them  was  a  trampled,  earthy  paste. 

Occasionally,  these  migratory  herds,  coming  to  a  stream, 
rushed  in  thirstily,  each  rank  crowding  hard  upon  another. 
When  the  foremost  struck  the  water,  galloping  along  with 
thundering  tread,  the  fury  of  their  charge  sent  the  spray 
high  in  the  air,  like  a  fountain.  In  an  instant,  the  crystal 
current  was  yellow  and  turbid,  with  the  disturbed  soil ; 
then  a  dense  mass  of  black  heads,  with  snorting  muzzles, 
crowded  the  surface  from  bank  to  bank. 

"  See  !  see  ! "  cried  Arthur.  "  How  those  big  fellows  run 
on  ahead,  lie  down  and  roll,  and  then  jump  up  and  dash 
on  again.  Why,  they're  spryer  than  old  Bally  was  the 
other  day,  when  he  pitched  me  sky  high." 

"  Yes,  and  if  you  watch,  you  will  see  that  all  the  buf 
faloes  on  the  side  of  that  bluff  drop  in  the  same  place, 
roll  and  skip  on  again,  almost  like  a  lot  of  cats." 

"  Why  do  they  do  that,  Mont  ? " 

"  Well,  you  know  that  most  hairy  animals  like  to  roll ;  I 
suppose  it  answers  for  a  scratching-post.  If  you  ever  come 
to  a  tree  in  this  part  of  the  country,  you  will  find  it  all 
worn  smooth  and  tufted  with  loose  hair,  where  the  buffaloes 
have  rubbed  themselves  against  it." 

"  But,  somehow,  these  chaps  all  seem  to  drop  in  the 
same  place  and  then  canter  on  again.  I  should  think  each 
buffalo  would  want  a  clean  spot." 

"  Oh  nc  !  that  place  is  worn  to  the  soil  now,  and  is  a  better 
one  to  rub  the  hide  of  the  creature  in  than  a  grassy  place 
would  be.  For  years  after  this,  if  we  were  to  come  along 
here,  we  should  find  a  big  patch  right  there  where  the  buf 
faloes  are  rolling  as  they  trot  along.  The  grass  won't 


AMOX  Q  THE  B  UFFA  L  OE8.  1 09 

grow  there  again  for  a  great  while.  That  is  what  the 
plains  men  call  a  buffalo-wallow — though  a  *  frailer,'  I 
believe,  is  the  correct  plains  expression." 

"  I  like  you,  JVlont,"  said  Arty,  looking  frankly  into 
Morse's  eyes,  "  because  you  know  everything." 

"  Oil  no,  Arty,  not  everything.  You  arc  a  partial  friend. 
I'm  only  a  greenhorn.  But  look  at  that !  My  ?  But  isn't 
that  a  sight  ?  " 

As  he  spoke,  a  vast  crowd  of  animals,  moving  from  the 
eastward,  came  surging  up  over  a  swale  in  the  undulating 
surface.  There  seemed  to  be  hundreds  of  thousands. 
The  ground  disappeared  from  sight,  and  in  its  place,  as  if 
it  had  swallowed  it,  was  a  flood  of  dark  animal  life.  There 
was  no  longer  any  individuality;  it  was  a  sea.  It  didn't 
gallop ;  it  moved  onward  in  one  slow-flowing  stream. 
There  was  no  noise ;  but  a  confused  murmur,  like  the 
rote  of  the  distant  sea  before  a  storm,  floated  on  the  air. 
There  was  no  confusion  ;  in  one  mighty  phalanx  the  count 
less  creatures  drifted  on,  up  the  hills  and  down  the 
horizon. 

"Jingo!"  exclaimed  Arty.  "I  don't  wonder  Barney 
grumbles  because  there  is  so  much  cattle-power  running 
to  waste.  Don't  I  wish  we  could  hitch  up  four  or  five 
yoke  of  those  old  chaps!  We'd  go  to  California  jus' 
'  fluking,'  as  Bush  would  say." 

"  If  I  had  my  way  about  it,  my  boy,  I'd  have  some  ol 
that  good,  nice  buffalo-beef  that  is  running  about  loose 
here  cut  up  and  sent  to  poor  folks  in  Boston." 

"  Well,  there  are  poor  folks  in  other  cities  besides 
Boston,  Monty,  you  know." 

"  To  be  sure ;  only  1  think  of  them  first,  because  I  know 
them.  And  wherever  they  are,  some  of  those  same  poor 
folks  don't  get  fresh  meat  very  often.  And  here's  million* 


HO  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

and  millions  of  pounds  going  to  wasi.e.  It  seems  to  me 
that  there's  a  screw  loose  somewhere  that  this  should 
be  so." 

Arthur  regarded  this  wonderful  cattle  show  with  great 
soberness  and  with  new  interest. 

.  u  Why  can't  some  rich  man  have  these  buffaloes  killed, 
and  the  fresh  meat  sent  to  the  poor  people  who  starve  in 
cities?" 

"  Perhaps  a  more  sensible  plan  would  be  to  bring  the 
poor  out  here." 

"  Sure  enough,"  responded  the  lad,  "I  never  thought  of 
that.  But  if  next  year's  emigrants  kill  the  buffaloes  like 
they  do  now,  there  will  be  none  left  when  the  settlers  come. 
Why,  I  counted  twenty-seven  dead  ones  on  the  cut-off, 
yesterday,  when  Johnny  and  I  took  that  trail  back  of  Ash 
Hollow." 

"And  even  the  animals  that  are  cut  into  are  not  used 
much  for  food,"  added  Mont.  "  We  have  all  the  buffalo 
meat  we  want ;  and  while  you  were  off,  yesterday,  I  passed 
a  place  where  some  party  had  camped,  and  I  saw  where 
they  had  kindled  a  lire  from  an  old,  used-up  wagon,  and 
had  heaped  up  two  or  three  carcases  of  buffaloes  to  burn. 
Great  waste  of  fuel  and  meat  too,  I  call  that.  But  I 
greased  my  boots  by  the  marrow  frying  out  of  the  bones." 

Mont  and  Arty  descended  the  bluff,  and  reaching  tho 
rolling  plain  behind  it,  moved  to  the  north  and  west,  keep 
ing  the  general  course  of  the  road,  but  leaving  the  bluff 
between  it  and  them. 

"  Ws  have  nothing  but  our  pistols  to  shoot  with,"  said 
Mont,  "and  I  wouldn't  shoot  one  if  I  could.  Ixit  we 
may  as  well  see  h<;  w  near  we  can  get  to  them." 

They  walked  rapidly  toward  the  moving  mass  of  buffa 
loes.  Here  and  there  were  grazing  herds,  but  most  of 


AMONG  THE  BUFFALOES.  H) 

them  seemed  to  be  slowly  traveling  without  BtoppiLf*  tc 
eat.  Mont  advised  that  they  should  creep  up  a  bushy 
ravine  which  led  into  a  gap  in  the  hills,  and  was  blackened 
on  its  edges  with  buffaloes.  Cautiously  moving  up  this 
depression,  they  emerged  at  the  farther  end  *«d  found 
themselves  in  a  throng  of  animals,  just  out  of  gun-shot 
range.  Some  were  standing  still,  others  were  moving 
away,  but  all  regarded  the  strangers  with  mild  curiosity. 

"  Why,  I  thought  I  should  be  afraid,"  confessed  Arthur. 

"  No,"  whispered  Mont.  "  As  long  as  they  are  not  en 
raged  by  a  long  chase,  or  driven  into  a  corner,  they  are  as 
harmless  as  so  many  cows." 

Passing  out  between  the  hills,  the  young  fellows  found 
themselves  on  a  nearly  level  plain.  Here,  too,  was  a  dense 
throng  of  buffaloes,  stretching  off  to  the  undulating  hori 
zon.  As  the  two  explorers  walked  on,  a  wide  lane  seemed 
to  open  in  the  mighty  herds  before  them.  Insensibly, 
and  without  any  hurry,  the  creatures  drifted  away  to  the 
right  and  left,  browsing  or  staring,  but  continually  moving. 
Looking  back,  they  saw  that  the  buffaloes  had  closed  up  their 
ranks  on  the  trail  which  they  had  just  pursued  ;  while  be 
fore,  arid  on  either  hand,  was  a  wall  of  animals. 

"  We  are  surrounded  1 "  almost  whispered  Arthur,  with 
some  alarm. 

"Never  mind,  my  boy.  We  can  walk  out,  just  as  the. 
children  of  Israel  did  from  the  Ked  Sea.  Only  we  have 
waves  of  buffaloes,  instead  of  water,  to  close  behind  and 
open  before  and  be  a  wall  on  each  side.  See ! " 

And,  as  they  kept  on,  the  mass  before  them  melted 
away  in  some  mysterious  way,  always  at  the  same  distance 
from  them. 

"  See !  We  move  in  a  vacant  space  that  tra^  eJs  w  ith  m 
wherever  we  go,  Arty." 


1  ]  2  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  lad.  "  It  seems  just  as  if  we  were  • 
candle  in  the  dark.  The  open  ground  arcund  us  is  the 
light  we  shed  ;  the  buffaloes  are  the  darkness  outside." 

"  A  good  figure  of  speech,  that,  my  laddie.  I  must 
remember  it.  But  we  are  getting  out  of  the  wilderness." 

They  had  now  come  to  a  sharp  rise  of  ground,  broken 
oy  a  rocky  ledge,  which  turned  the  herds  more  to  the 
northward.  Ascending  this,  they  were  out  of  the  buffaloed 
foi  the  time,  but  beyond  them  were  thousands  more. 
Turning  southward,  they  struck  across  the  country  for  the 
road,  quite  well  satisfied  with  their  explorations. 

Between  two  long  divides,  or  ridges,  they  came  upon  a 
single  wagon,  canvas-covered,  in  which  were  two  small 
children.  Two  little  boys  were  playing  near,  and  four 
oxen  were  grazing  by  a  spring. 

In  reply  to  Mont's  surprised  question  as  to  how  they 
came  off  the  road,  and  why  they  were  here  alone,  they 
said  that  their  father  and  uncle  had  come  up  after  the 
buffaloes,  and  were  out  with  their  guns.  Their  mother 
was  over  on  the  bluff,  a  little  rocky  mass  which  rose  like 
an  island  in  the  middle  of  the  valley.  She  had  gone  to 
hunt  for  "  sarvice-berries."  They  were  left  to  mind  the 
cattle  and  the  children. 

"Pretty  careless  business,  I  should  say,"  murmured 
Mont.  ""Well,  youngsters,"  he  added,  "keep  by  the 
wagon  ;  and  if  your  cattle  stray  off,  they  may  get  carried 
away  by  the  buffaloes.  Mind  that !  " 

Tli3y  went  on  down  the  valley,  looking  behind  them  at 
the  helpless  little  family  alone  in  the  wilderness. 

"  A  man  ought  to  be  whipped  for  leaving  his  young 
ones  here  in  such  a  lonely  place,"  said  Mont. 

Suddenly,  over  the  southern  wall  of  the  valley,  like  a 
thunder-cloud,  rose  a  vast  and  fieeing  herd  of  buffaloes 


AMONG  THE  BUFFALOES. 

They  were  not  only  running,  they  were  rushing  like  a 
mighty  flood. 

"  A  stampede !  a  stampede  !  "  cried  Mont  'y  and  flying 
back  to  the  unconscious  group  of  children,  followed  by 
A rtlmr,  he  said :  "Run  for  your  lives,  youngsters !  Make 
for  the  bluff!" 

Seizing  one  of  the  little  ones,  and  bidding  Arthui  take 
the  other,  he  started  the  boys  ahead  for  the  island -bluff, 
which  was  some  way  down  the  valley.  There  was  not  a 
moment  to  lose.  Behind  them,  like  a  rising  tide,  flowed 
the  buffaloes  in  surges.  A  confused  murmur  filled  the 
air ;  the  ground  resounded  with  the  hurried  beat  of  count 
less  hoofs,  and  the  earth  seemed  to  be  disappearing  in  the 
advancing  torrent.  Close  behind  the  flying  fugitives,  the 
angry,  panic-stricken  herd  tumbled  and  tossed.  Its  labored 
breathing  sighed  like  a  breeze,  and  the  warmth  of  its  pul 
sations  seemed  to  stifle  the  air. 

"  To  the  left !  to  the  left ! "  screamed  Arthur,  seeing 
the  bewildered  boys,  wrho  fled  like  deer,  making  directly 
for  the  steepest  part  of  the  bluff.  Thus  warned,  the  lads 
bounded  up  the  little  island,  grasping  the  underbrush  as 
they  climbed.  Hard  behind  them  came  x\rty,  pale,  his 
features  drawn  and  rigid,  and  bearing  in  his  arms  a  little 
girl.  Mont  brought  up  the  rear  with  a  stout  boy  on  his 
Bhoulder,  and  breathless  with  excitement  and  the  laborious 
run. 

Up  the  steep  side  they  scrambled,  falling  and  recovering 
themselves,  but  up  at  last.  Secure  on  the  rock,  they  saw 
a  heaving  tide  of  wild  creatures  pour  tumultuously  over 
the  edge  of  the  ridge  and  fill  the  valley.  It  leaped  from 
ledge  to  ledge,  tumbled  and  broke,  rallied  again  art! 
swept  on,  black  and  silent  save  for  the  rumbling  thundtfl 
of  countless  hoofs  and  the  panting  breath  of  the  innuruer 


114  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

able  multitude.  On  it  rolled  over  every  obstacle.  TJie 
wagon  disappeared  in  a  twinkling,  its  white  cover  going 
down  in  the  black  tide  like  a  sinking  ship  at  sea.  Past 
the  island-like  bluff,  where  a  little  group  stood  spell 
bound,  the  herd  swept,  the  rushing  tide  separating  at  the 
rocky  point,  against  which  it  beat  and  parted  to  the  right 
and  left.  Looking  down,  they  saw  the  stream  flow  by,  on 
and  up  the  valley.  It  was  gone,  and  the  green  turf  waa 
brown  where  it  had  been.  The  spring  was  choked,  and 
the  wagon  was  trampled  flat. 

Fascinated  by  the  sight,  Mont  and  Arthur  never  took 
their  eyes  from  it  until  it  was  over.  Then  returning  to 
their  young  charges,  they  saw  a  tall,  gaunt  woman,  with  a 
horror-stricken  face,  gathering  the  whole  group  in  her 
arms.  It  was  the  mother. 

"  I  don't  know  who  you  be,  young  men,  but  I  thank  you 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  she  said.  "  Yes,  I  thank 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart — and,  Oh  !  I  thank  God, 
too  !"  And  she  burst  into  tears. 

Arthur,  at  loss  for  anything  else  to  say,  remarked : 
"  Your  wagon  is  all  smashed." 

"  I  don't  care — don't  care,"  said  the  woman,  hysterically 
rocking  herself  to  and  fro  where  she  sat  with,  her  children 
clasped  to  her  bosom.  "  So's  the  young  ones  are  safe,  the 
rest  may  go  to  wrack." 

As  she  spoke,  a  couple  of  horsemen,  carrying  rifles, 
came  madly  galloping  down  the  valley,  far  in  the  wake  of 
the  flying  herd.  They  paused  thunderstruck,  at  the  frag 
ments  of  their  wagon  trampled  in  the  torn  soil.  Then, 
seeing  the  group  on  the  rock,  they  hastened  on,  dis 
mounted,  and  climbed  the  little  eminence. 

"  Great  powers  above,  Jemiiny !  we  stampeded  the 
buffaloes!"  said  the  elder  of  the  pair  of  hunters. 


AMONG  THE  BUFFALOES.  lift 

Art/  expected  to  hear  her  say  that  she  was  thankful  so 
long  as  they  were  all  alive. 

"  Yes,  and  a  nice  mess  you've  made  of  it."  This  was 
all  her  comment. 

"  Whar  s  the  cattle,  Zeph  ? "  asked  the  father  of  thia 
flock. 

"  Gone  off  with  the  buffaloes,  I  reckon,  dad,"  was  tho 
response  of  his  son  Zephaniah, 

The  man  looked  up  and  down  the  valley  with  a  be 
wildered  air.  His  wagon  had  been  mashed  and  crushed 
into  the  ground.  His  cattle  were  swept  out  into  space  by 
the  resistless  flood,  and  were  nowhere  ir.  eight.  He  found 
words  at  last : 

"  Well,  this  is  perf  eckly  rediclua  " 


1 1  ft  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  XL 

IN  WHICH   THE  BOSTON  BOYS   LOSE  AN   OI  O   FKIEND  AND   TIHD 
A   NEW   FKIEND. 


E  are  from  Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa,"  was  the  answer  oi 
the  buffalo-ruined  emigrant,  when  Mont  asked  him  about 
his  company.  "  The  way  we  came  to  be  here  was  this  : 
My  brother  Jake  here  and  I  wanted  to  hunt  buffaloes,  so 
we  left  the  train  back  at  Crab  Creek,  and  just  scouted  on 
ahead  to  get  a  crack  at  the  buffaloes.  She  wanted  to 
come,  and  as  she  wouldn't  leave  the  children,  we  all  bun 
dled  into  the  wagon  and  allowed  to  stay  here  a  couple  of 
days  before  the  rest  of  the  train  came  along." 

"  How  many  teams  are  there  in  your  train  ?  "  asl  ed 
Mont. 

"  Twenty-five  teams,  ten  horses,  and  a  hundred  suid 
seventy-five  head  of  cattle." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Mont,  "  you  will  get  along  all  righ<  ," 

"  I  ain't  so  sure  of  that,  strannger.  The  train's  gett  ng 
short  of  grub  already  ;  and  if  we  are  able  to  get  to  £  lit 
Lake  without  being  on  allowance,  we'll  be  lucky." 

"Well,  ole  man,"  put  in  the  wife,  "you've  lost  yen- 
wagon  and  all  yer  fixin's.  How'il  ye  get  to  go  back  to 
Oie  road  ?  Here's  these  young  ones  to  be  taken  bi  r  k 
eomehow." 

One  of  the  men  stayed  to  look  for  the  missing  ox^ii, 
which  he  never  found  ;  and  the  other,  assisted  by  Mon* 
and  Arthur,  made  his  way  to  the  emigrant  track  with  tL? 


LOSING  AND  GAINING  FRIENDS.  1  J  7 

children.  They  remained  with  our  boys  until  night, 
when  the  ^ell-known  Cedar  Rapids  train,  to  which  the^ 
belonged,  came  up  and  received  their  unlucky  comrades. 

The  country  at  this  point  grew  more  broken  and  woody, 
a? id,  for  some  reason,  the  emigrant  trains  became  moro 
numerous.  Feed  for  the  cattle  was  not  always  to  be  had, 
because  there  were  so  many  animals  to  be  pastured  on  tlio 
short,  bunchy  buffalo  grass  of  the  region.  Each  separate 
party  drove  its  oxen  out  among  the  hills  when  the  camps 
were  pitched ;  but  it  was  necessary  to  watch  them  at  night, 
and  for  this  purpose  many  companies  combined,  and  so 
divided  their  burdens  by  standing  "watch  and  watch" 
with  each  other. 

Mont  was  anxious  about  poor  old  Bally.  His  foot  grew 
continually  worse,  and  it  seemed  cruel  to  drive  him  in  the 
team,  but  there  was  110  help  for  it.  They  must  get  on  some 
how,  and  Bally,  lame  though  he  was,  could  not  be  spared 
from  the  yoke. 

"  If  we  only  had  money  enough  now,"  said  Arty,  "  we 
could  buy  a  steer  from  some  of  these  droves.  There  are 
cattle  enough  and  to  spare." 

"  But  not  money  enough  and  to  spare,"  responded  Hi, 
gloomily.  "  If  Bally  don't  get  shut  of  his  lameness,  we 
shall  have  to  leave  him.  And  I  don't  see  no  way  of 
goin'  through  with  one  yoke  of  oxen  and  a  cow  and  one 
old  hoss." 

This  was  the  first  time  the  subject  had  been  openly  dis 
cussed  with  such  a  despondent  conclusion.  But  each  one 
of  the  party  had  thought  it  over  by  himself.  There  waa 
silence  in  the  camp.  Every  day  they  passed  cattle  and 
horses  left  by  their  owners  because  they  were  unfit  to 
travel.  Their  dead  bodies  were  common  by  the  way. 
But  these  were  usually  animals  from  large  trains,  or  from 


1 1  £  TEE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS 

the  teams  of  parties  too  weak  to  get  along  alone,  and 
had  joined  forces  with  others.  What  could  they  do? 
asktxl  Arthur  to  himself.  Then  he  said,  almost  in  a 
whispoi  ; 

"If  we  h^re  to  leave  Bally,  what  shall  we  do  next, 
Hi?'' 

Hi  had  no  answer.     But  Mont  said,  decidedly  : 

"  I  shall  go  on,  if  I  have  to  walk  or  take  passage  it 
Bush's  go-cari  ? " 

"  I  just  b'licve  you'd  do  it,  Mont,"  said  Hi,  with  admi 
ration.  "  If  the  wust  comes  to  the  wust,  we  can  lighten 
our  load  and  hitch  up  Jim  ahead  of  Tige  and  Bally's 
mate,  and  try  that." 

"  Lighten  our  load? "  asked  Tom.  "  How's  that  ?  We've 
thrown  out  all  the  loose  truck  we  could  spare." 

"  Tommy,  my  boy,"  said  Hi,  with  great  solemnity, 
"  there's  heaps  of  fellers,  this  very  minute,  a-goin'  on  to 
Californy  and  livin'  only  on  half-rations,  for  the  sake  of 
gettin'  through.  I  seen  a  man  back  at  Buffalo  Creek 
who  allowed  that  he  hadn't  had  a  square  meal  since  he 
left  the  Bluffs,  except  when  he  had  buffalo-meat,  and 
that  is  not  to  be  got  only  now.  Bumbye  it'll  be  out  of 
reach." 

"So  you  mean  to  chuck  out  the  flour  and  bacon,  do 
ye  ?  "  said  Tom,  with  great  disgust. 

"  That's  about  it,  sonny." 

"  Then  I'll  gc  back  with  the  first  feller  we  meet  bound 
for  the  States." 

The  others  agreed  that  they  would  stay  by  each  other 
aid  get  through  somehow.  Even  little  Johnny  was  ap 
palled  at  the  bare  idea  of  turning  back.  There  was 
nothing  for  him  behind ;  his  world  was  all  before  him  j 
his  friends  were  all  here  with  him. 


LOSING  AND  GAINING  FRItiNDS. 


110 


.But  no  such  necessity  overtook  them. 

They  had  looked  forward  with  curiosity  to  Chimney 
Rock,  a  singular  pillar  of  stone,  standing  like  a  round 
chimney  en  a  cone-shaped  mass  of  rock,  on  the  south  bani 


JOHNNY. 


of  the  Platte.  This  natural  landmark,  several  hundreJ 
feet  high,  is  seen  long  before  it  can  be  reached  by  the 
emigrants  toiling  along  the  wagon- track  by  the  river. 
The  boys  hs.i  sighted  its  tall  spire  from  afar,  and  when 


1 20  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

they  camped  opposite  it,  one  night,  they  felt  as  if  they  had 
really  got  into  the  heart  of  the  continent.  They  had  lo'jg 
ago  heard  of  this  wonderful  rock,  and  its  strange  shape, 
apparently  sculptured  by  some  giant  architect,  towered 
before  their  eyes  at  last. 

"  I  reckon  that  there  rock  must  have  been  pushed  up  by 
a  volcano,"  said  a  tall  stranger,  joining  the  boys,  as  they 
were  wondering  at  Chimney  Rock,  after  having  camped. 

"  Perhaps  the  soft  rock  and  soil  which  once  lay  around 
it  have  been  cut  away  by  the  rains  and  winds,"  said  Bar- 

«/          «/  * 

ney,  diffidently.  "  You  see  the  bluffs  near  by  are  still 
wasting  away  from  the  same  cause." 

"  Like  enough,  like  enough.  But  what's  the  matter  with 
that  critter  of  your'n  ?  'Pears  like  he  was  gone  lame." 

Hi  explained  the  difficulty,  and  told  their  visitor  that 
they  were  traveling  slowly  for  the  purpose  of  making  the 
trip  as  easy  as  possible  for  poor  Bally. 

"  What !  you  don't  drive  that  beast,  do  ye  ? " 

"  We  have  to.  We  have  only  two  yoke  of  cattle,  count 
ing  him." 

"  Well  he'll  never  get  well  in  the  team.  Take  him  out 
and  let  him  crawl  on  by  himself,  and  mebbe  he'll  mend. 
I've  got  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  sixty  head  over  there," — 
and  the  stranger  pointed  to  his  camp  on  the  other  side  of 
the  road. 

There  were  three  wagons  ;  two  of  them  were  immense 
square-topped  affairs,  with  openings  at  the  side,  like  a 
singe-coach  door.  The  people  lived  in  these  wagons  and 
slept  in  them  at  night,  having  several  feather  beds  packed 
away  in  their  depths.  One  team  was  made  :ip  wholly  of 
bulls,  of  which  there  were  four  yoke.  Just  now,  the  cattle 
were  at  rest,  and  two  hired  men  were  herding  them,  while 
the  wcmen,  of  wbom  there  were  several,  prepared  supper 


LOSING  AND  GAINING  FRIENDS.  121 

"  My  name's  Rose,"  the  stranger  said,  when  his  offer  of 
assistance  had  been  gladly  accepted.  "  They  call  us  '  The 
Roses'  along  the  road.  I  have  my  mother,  father,  and 
sister  along  with  me ;  then  there's  Scoofey  and  his  wife 
and  baby ;  and  Al  and  Aaron,  they're  workin'  their  pas 
sage  through." 

tt  What  part  of  the  country  are  you  from  ?  "  asked  Hi. 

"  Sangamon  County,  Illinoy,"  replied  Rose.  "  I've 
heerd  tell  of  you  boys.  'The  Boston  Boys'  they  call  you 
on  the  trail,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  No,  we  are  the  Lee  County  boys,"  said  Mont,  smiling. 

"  But,"  exclaimed  Arthur,  "  we  are  called  '  The  Boston 
Boys'  too ;  I've  often  heard  that  name,  lately.  Mont  here 
is  from  Boston,  Captain  Rose." 

"  It  don't  make  no  difference  how  you  are  called,  boys, 
and  I  allow  we'll  get  along  together  for  a  spell.  We're 
traveling  the  same  road,  and  as  long  as  we  are,  you're 
welcome  to  the  use  of  one  of  my  steers.  I  allow  that 
you'll  be  willing  to  take  hold  and  help  us  drive  the  herd 
now  and  then  ? " 

The  boys  willingly  consented  to  this  arrangement,  and 
poor  Bally,  next  morning,  was  taken  out  of  the  yoke  and 
allowed  to  go  free  in  the  drove  of  the  Roses.  But  tlie 
relief  came  too  late.  Each  day  the  ox  traveled  with 
more  difficulty.  Every  morning,  before  starting,  and 
every  noon,  when  stopping  for  the  usual  rest,  Bally  waa 
thrown  down  and  his  f.»ot  re-shod  and  cleansed.  It  was  of  •• 
nc  avail.  Barney  took  him  out  of  the  herd  and  drove  him 
alone,  ahead  of  the  rest.  But  it  was  agony  for  tho  poor 
ijreature  ;  he  could  barely  limp  along. 

In  a  day  or  two  the  train,  now  quite  a  large  one,  reached 
Ancient  Ruins  Bluffs,  a  wonderful  mass  of  rock,  resem 
bling  towers,  walls,  palaces,  and  domes,  worn  by  time  and 
6 


122  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

ennobling  to  decay.  Here  the  road  became  rough  and 
Btony,  and  the  way  by  the  side  of  the  beaten  track  waa 
hard  for  the  lame  ox.  Barney  and  Arthur  clung  affec 
tionately  to  Bally.  He  was  an  old  friend,  and,  notwith 
standing  his  vicious  manner  of  using  his  horns,  they  did 
not  like  to  leave  him.  Reluctantly,  they  gave  him  up 
here.  They  must  go  on  without  him,  after  all. 

When  they  moved  out  of  camp  in  the  morning,  Bally 
who  had  been  lying  down  watching  the  preparations  for 
the  day's  inarch,  got  on  his  feet  with  difficulty,  as  if  ready 
to  go  on. 

"  Never  mind,  old  fellow,"  said  Mont.  "  You  needn't 
bother  yourself.  "We  will  leave  you  hear  to  feed  by  your 
self  and  get  well,  if  you  can." 

"  Good-by,  Bally,"  said  Arthur,  with  a  little  pang,  as 
they  moved  off.  The  creature  stopped  chewing  his  cud 
and  looked  after  his  comrades  with  a  wild  surprise  in 
his  big  brown  eyes.  He  stood  on  a  little  knoll,  regarding 
the  whole  proceeding  as  if  it  were  an  entirely  novel  turn 
of  affairs. 

"  Good-by,  Bally,"  again  said  Arty,  this  time  with  a 
queer,  choking  sensation  in  his  throat.  Hi  actually  snuffled 
in  his  big  bandanna  handkerchief.  Tom,  by  way  of 
changing  the  subject,  walked  by  Tige's  head,  and,  looking 
into  the  eyes  of  that  intelligent  animal,  said  : 

"  Well !  if  there  ain't  a  tear  on  Tige's  nose !  He's  sorry 
to  get  shut  of  Bally,  after  all !  " 

"  Oh,  you  talk  too  much,"  said  Barney,  testily. 

So  they  left  Bally  looking  after  them  as  they  climbed 
the  ridge  and  disappeared  behind  Ancient  Ruins  Bluffs. 

That  very  night,  as  if  to  supply  the  place  of  their  lost 
friend,  a  new  acquaintance  came  to  their  camp.  It  was  a 
large  mongrel  dog,  yellow  as  to  color,  compactly  built, 


LOSING  AND  GAINING  FRIENDS.  123 

and  with  a  fox-like  head.  Dogs  were  not  common  cii  the 
plains.  This  waif  had  been  running  along  the  road  alone 
for  some  days  past.  The  boys  had  often  seen  him,  and 
had  supposed  that  he  belonged  to  some  train  behind  them. 
His  feet  were  sore  with  travel,  and  he  was  evidently 
masterless. 

"  Poor  fellow!"  said  Mont,  pityingly.  "Give  me  the 
arnica  out  of  the  medicine-chest,  and  I  will  fix  some  buck- 
skin  socks  on  his  feet." 

The  dog  accepted  these  kind  attentions,  and,  as  soon  aa 
he  was  let  loose  again,  sat  down  and  deliberately  tore  off 
his  moccasins  with  his  teeth.  While  he  was  licking  his 
sore  feet,  Johnny,  who  had  been  out  with  Tom,  gathering 
fuel  on  the  bluffs,  came  in  with  a  load  on  his  back.  He 
dropped  his  burden  with  an  air  of  astonishment,  and  ex 
claimed  : 

<  Bill  Bunce's  dog !" 

"  Sho ! "  said  Hi.     «  What's  his  name  ? " 

"  Pete,"  replied  the  boy,  who  could  hardly  believe  hia 
eyes. 

"  Well,  Pete,"  said  Hi,  "  where's  yer  master  ?  'Cordin' 
to  all  accounts  he's  a  bad  egg.  Pity  that  there  dog  can't 
talk." 

But  Pete  had  nothing  to  say.  He  shyly  accepted  Arthur's 
proffers  of  friendship,  and  from  that  moment  became  a 
regular  member  of  the  company. 

"  We've  got  such  a  lot  of  grub,  I  s'pose,  we  must  needs 
take  in  a  yaller  dog  to  divide  with,"  privately  grumbled 
Tom  to  his  brother  that  night.  "  Reckon  Arthur  '11  want  to 
pick  up  a  jackass  rabbit  for  a  pet,  next  thing  you  know." 

"  If  you  don't  like  it,  sonny,  you  can  go  back,  you  know," 
replied  Hi,  who  was  cross  and  sleepy.  Pete's  position  ic 
the  camp  was  assured. 


L24  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

A  few  days  after  this,  while  near  Fort  Laramie,  they  luv<5 
a  chance  to  dispose  of  their  new  friend.  Just  as  they  were 
camping,  a  party  of  mounted  Indians,  of  the  Brule  Sioux 
band,  came  galloping  up  to  their  tent.  They  were  splendid 
fellows,  dressed  in  the  fullest  and  gayest  costume  of  tho 
Indian  dandy.  Their  hair  was  loosely  knotted  behind  and 
stuck  full  of  brilliantly  dyed  feathers,  which  hung  down 
their  backs.  Their  buckskin  leggings,  moccasins  and 
hunting-frocks  were  covered  with  embroidery  in  colored 
quills,  the  handiwork  of  their  squaws.  Bright  red  blankets 
dangled  down  from  their  shoulders,  and  about  their  necks 
were  hung  strings  of  shells,  beads,  and  bears'  claws,  with 
rude  silver  ornaments.  Their  faces  were  painted  with  red 
and  yellow  ochre,  and  one  of  them,  the  chief,  wore  a  tor 
toise-shell  plate  over  his  decorated  forehead,  like  the  visor 
of  a  cap. 

These  gorgeous  visitors  sat  stately  on  their  horses,  and 
regarded  our  young  emigrants  with  an  air  of  lofty  disdain. 

"  How  ! "  said  Mont,  who  had  been  taught  good  manners, 
if  the  Sioux  had  not.  The  chief  grunted,  "  Ugh !  "  in  reply 
to  this  customary  salutation.  Then  he  happened  to  see 
Pete. 

"  You  sell  him  ? "  pointing  to  the  dog. 

"No,  no,"  said  Arthur,  in  a  whisper.  "Don't  sell  him 
Mont.  lie  wants  to  eat  him,  probably." 

"  No  sell  him,"  promptly  replied  Mont.  "  Good  dog 
We  keep  him." 

Thus  rebuffed,  the  Indians  unbent  somewhat  from  then 
dignity,  and  the  chief,  carefully  extracting  from  a  bead 
worked  pouch  a  bit  of  paper,  handed  it  to  Barn.ird  with 
the  remark,  "  You  read  urn." 

The  paper  proved  to  be  a  certificate  from  Indian  Agent 
TJiomans  that  the  bearer  wag  a  peaceable  Indian,  "  Big 


LOSING  AND  GAINING  FRIENDS.  12* 

Partisan  "  by  name,  and  that  he  and  his  band  were  not  to 
be  molested  by  white  people  whom  they  meet.  These 
dusky  visitors,  thus  introduced,  dismounted  and  stalked 
through  the  camp,  saying  nothing,  but  looking  at  everything 
with  stolid  gravity.  While  the  rest  were  trying  to  make 
come  conversation  with  the  Indians,  Arty  climbed  into  the 
wagon  to  get  out  some  provisions.  While  opening  a  flour- 
sack,  he  saw  the  lid  of  the  "  feed-box,"  at  the  rear  end  of 
the  wagon,  in  which  were  kept  their  small  stores,  cups  and 
plates,  raised  from  the  outside  by  an  unseen  hand.  Won 
dering  at  this,  the  boy  softly  worked  his  way  towards  the 
box,  concealed  by  the  raised  cover.  A  crest  of  plumes 
now  nodded  above  the  lid,  and  a  soft  rattle  showed  that 
some  one  was  fingering  the  contents  of  the  box.  Placing 
both  hands  on  the  cover,  which  sloped  toward  him,  Arty 
gave  a  sudden  push  and  brought  it  down  with  a  tremendous 
clatter.  A  superb-looking  Indian  stood  revealed,  having 
barely  snatched  his  hands  away  as  the  box-cover  slammed 
down. 

"How ! "  he  said,  not  in  the  least  abashed.  Then,  raising 
the  lid  again  and  curiously  examining  the  hinges,  as  if  ad 
miring  their  mechanism,  he  said :  "  Heap  good  !  White 
man  know  everything." 

"  The  white  man  knows  too  much  to  let  you  hook  things 
out  of  his  grub  box,"  said  Arty,  angrily. 

The  Indian  smiled  in  the  blandest  manner,  and  joined 
his  companions.  The  party  stayed  about  the  camp  some 
time,  as  if  waiting  an  invitation  to  sup  with  the  white 
men.  But  entertainment  for  Indians  was  out  of  the 
question;  there  was  not  piovision  enough  to  spare  anyfoi 
visitors. 

When  they  went  away,  Arty  said,  grumblingly,  as  lifl 
went  on  with  Iris  preparations  for  supner 


126  TRE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

"Now  I  suppose  I  can  turn  my  back  on  the  wagon 
without  something  being  stolen." 

"  Pooh !  Arty  thinks  he  is  the  only  one  who  keep? 
watch,"  sneered  Tom. 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  me,  that  big  dandy  Indian  would 
have  carried  off  everything  in  the  grub-box,"  returned  the 
boy;  who  was  cross,  tired,  and  generally  out  of  sorts.  He 
was  making  a  buffalo  stew  for  supper,  and  Barnard,  coming 
up,  looked  into  the  camp-kettle. 

"  What !  no  potatoes  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  tone  of  disgust. 

"No,"  replied  Arthur,  sharply.  "No potatoes.  We've 
only  a  precious  few  left.  We've  got  to  make  the  most  of 
them." 

"  I  wouldn't  give  a  cent  for  a  stew  without  potatoes," 
remonstrated  Barnard. 

"  Nor  I  neither,"  joined  in  Tom,  only  too  glad  to  see  a 
little  unpleasantness  between  the  two  brothers. 

"  Well,  you'll  have  to  eat  a  good  many  things  that  you 
don't  like,  before  we  get  through — 'specially  if  I  have  to 
do  the  cooking.  Barney  Crogan  thinks  too  much  of  what 
he  eats,  anyhow."  This  last  shot  Arty  fired  at  his  brother 
as  Barney  moved  away  without  a  word. 

On  the  plains,  where  men  are  by  themselves,  little  things 
like  this  sometimes  seem  to  be  very  important.  Men  have 
quarreled  and  fought  like  wild  animals  with  each  other 
over  a  dispute  about  flapjacks.  Two  old  friends,  on  the 
emigrant  trail,  fought  each  other  with  knives  because  one 
had  twitted  the  other  with  riding  too  often  in  the  wagon. 

Arthur  went  on  with  his  cooking,  feeling  very  uncom 
fortable,  as  well  as  cross.  They  had  had  a  weary  day's 
drive,  and  all  hands  were  fagged. 

"  The  worst  of  it  is,  I  have  to  work  around  this  plagney 
camp -stove,  while  the  others  can  lop  down  and  rest/ 


LOSING  AND  GAINING  FRIENDS.  127 

grumbled  poor  Arty  to  himself,  as  he  became  more  and 
more  heated. 

Running  to  the  wagon  for  a  spoon,  after  a  while,  Arty 
Btooped  and  looked  into  the  tent,  where  the  bundles  of 
blankets  had  been  tumbled  on  the  ground  and  leit. 
Barney  was  lying  on  the  heap,  fast  asleep,  and  with  a  tired, 
unhappy  look  on  his  handsome  face.  Arty  paused  and 
gazed,  with  a  troubled  feeling,  at  his  brother  lying  then! 
so  unconscious  and  still.  Barney  had  been  sick,  and 
the  night  before  he  had  started  up  in  his  sleep  crying 
"  Mother  !  "  much  to  Arty's  alarm. 

The  boy  regarded  his  brother  for  an  instant  with  pity, 
as  his  uneasy  sleeping  attitude  recalled  home  and  home 
comforts.  Then  he  went  silently  to  the  wagon,  took  out 
six  of  their  slender  stock  of  potatoes,  pared  and  sliced 
them,  and  put  them  into  the  stew  now  bubbling  in  the 
camp-kettle.  Nobody  but  Hi  noticed  this ;  and  he  only 
grinned,  and  said  to  himself,  "  Good  boy  1 " 

Afterwards,  when  they  had  squatted  about  their  rudo 
supper-table,  Barnard  uncovered  the  pan  containing  the 
stew,  with  an  air  of  discontent.  Glancing  at  Arty,  with 
pleased  surprise,  he  said  : 

"  Why,  you  put  in  potatoes,  after  all !  " 

Arthur's  cheeks  reddened,  as  he  said,  as  if  by  way  of 
apology : 

"  Mont  likes  them,  you  know." 

Mont  laughed  ;  and  so  did  they  all.  After  that,  there 
was  good  humor  in  the  camp. 


128  THS  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN   THE   HEART   OF   THE   CONTINENT. 

FORT  Laramie  was  not  a  very  interesting  p.ace  l;>  the 
boys.  It  hardly  repaid  them  for  the  trouble  they  had  in 
crossing  the  river  to  get  to  it.  But  here  they  found  a 
store  kept  by  an  army  sutler,  and  Mont  said  that  he  shoulc. 
really  enjoy  buying  something,  by  way  of  proving  to  him 
self  that  he  was  in  a  spot  where  something  besides  Indian 
manufactures  were  for  sale.  Arty  looked  longingly  on 
some  dry,  powdery  figs  and  ancient  candy  which  were 
among  the  sutler's  stock  in  trade ;  but  he  compromised 
with  himself,  and  bought  five  cents'  worth  of  aged  raisins, 
tvhich  he  generously  divided  with  his  comrades,  Tom  and 
Johnny. 

They  all  very  much  admired  the  nicely  dressed  officers, 
who  wore  as  fine  uniforms,  and  "  put  on  as  many  airs " 
(as  Bush  said)  as  if  they  lived  among  white  folks.  Then 
there  were  houses — real  houses — finished  with  siding  and 
painted  white,  and  with  stone  chimneys.  Some  of  these 
were  used  on  officers'  quarters,  and  some  were  barracks 
for  the  soldiers.  These  they  examined  with  curious  in 
terest.  They  had  seen  no  houses  for  several  weeks.  This 
was  a  little  village  in  the  wilderness. 

At  the  ci  )ssiug  of  the  South  Platte,  a  few  days  after, 
the  young  emigrants  found  another  trading  post.  It  vvaa 
in  a  rude  log  hut  on  the  bank  of  the  stream  ;  and  a  very 
queer  stock  of  goods  was  crow  led  into  it.  There  w«?»-p 


IN  THE  HEART  OF  TEE  CONTINENT.  129 

pipes,  mining  tools,  playing-cards,  flonr,  baccn,  sugar,  boota 
ard  shoes,  and  even  buttons,  thread,  and  needles.  But  the 
prices  I  They  were  tremendous.  Flour  "was  twenty-five 
f.ents  a  pound,  pipes  were  a  dollar  each ;  and  a  little  glasa 
tumbler  of  jam,  which  Tom  very  much  hankered  after, 
was  two  dollars  and  a-half.  Here,  too,  was  a  sort  of  newa 
exchange ;  there  were  no  newspapers,  to  be  sure,  except 
one  well-worn  paper  from  St.  Louis,  now  more  than  two 
months  old,  carefully  hung  over  a  long  string  of  buck 
skin,  and  not  permitted  to  be  handled  by  anybody.  But 
the  rough-bearded,  uncouth  men  who  lounged  about  the 
place  picked  np  from  the  trader  and  half-breed  assistant 
such  points  of  information  as  had  been  left  by  those  who 
had  gone  on  ahead.  They  also  left  here  messages  for 
friends  and  acquaintances  who  were  yet  behind. 

On  the  walls  of  this  store  in  the  waste  of  the  continent 
were  stuck  bits  of  paper  containing  rude  directions  for 
emigrants.  These  were  written  by  men  who  had  gone  on 
ahead  and  had  sent  back  some  report  of  their  experience. 
For  instance,  one  scrap  was  . 

35  miles  from  this  post  to  Hoss  Crik.  Dont  stop  at  Wilier  spring? 
which  it  ifl  no  springs  and  feed  mighty  pore. 

Tlight  under  this  was  another  b  illetin,  which  read: 

Nigh  60  miles  to  Sweetwater — powerful  bad  road  till  you  get  to 
Independence  Rock- -blacksmith  shop  and  tradin  post — the  traders  a 
thief. 

Some  charitable  person  had  rubbed  "thief"  from  this 
notice,  and  had  written  in  "good  feller"  instead;  bat 
both  titles  stayed  there. 

"  You  pays  yer  money  and  takes  yer  choice,"  said  Bush, 
grimly,  as  he  read  this  gazette.     "  But  I'll  bet  the 
man  was  right." 
6* 


130  T BE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Here,  too,  they  learned  that  the  ferryman  at  "  Colum 
bus,"  or  the  Lonp  Fork  crossing,  had  been  robbed. 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  asked  Mont. 

"  I  allow  it  was  about  the  middle  of  Jnne.  Me  and  my 
pard,  we  crossed  there  June  the  ten,  and  it  was  some  time 
after  that,"  explained  a  short,  thick-set  fellow,  whom  the 
boys  had  met  before  somewhere. 

"Well,  we  passed  there  on  the  fifth  of  June,"  said  Bar 
nard.  "  Did  the  thieves  get  away  with  much  money  ? " 

"  Nigh  onto  five  hundred  dollars,  I've  heard  tell ;  but 
thar's  no  knowin' ;  it  mought  have  been  five  thousand 
That  mean  skunk  took  in  heaps  of  coin  at  the  ferry." 

"Does  he  suspect  anybody?" 

"  Couldn't  say ;  'twas  after  I  war  thar.  How's  that, 
Dave  ?  "  said  he,  addressing  another  lounger. 

"  I  came  by  there  the  day  after  the  robbery,"  replied 
Dave.  "  Old  Columbus  was  off  on  the  trail  of  a  couple 
of  suspicions  characters  who  had  swam  the  fork  with  their 
horses,  about  four  miles  up  stream.  The  boys  at  the 
ferry  said  the  old  man  had  a  good  description  of  the 
chaps  whom  they  suspicioned.  One  of  'em  had  a  hare-lip, 
and  'tother  had  a  game  leg." 

"  A  game  leg  !  "  exclaimed  Johnny.  "  That's  Bill 
Bunce  I " 

"And  who  is  Bill  Bunce,  my  little  kid?"  asked  the 
stranger,  turning  to  the  boy. 

"  Oh,  he's  a  scaly  feller  that  left  this  boy  to  shift  for 
himself,  away  back  on  the  river.  But  you  aint  noways 
certain  that  this  thief  was  Bill  Bunce,  Johnny,  you  know," 
Baid  Hi. 

The  loanging  emigrants  were  so  much  kindled  by  this 
bit  of  possible  evidence  in  the  Lonp  Fork  robbery,  infor 
mation  of  which  had  slowly  overtaken  them  here,  that 


IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  CONTINENT.  131 

they  gathered  around  and  expressed  their  opinions  very 
freely  about  Bill  Bunce. 

"  He'll  swing  from  the  first  tree  he  meets  after  some  of 
us  fellers  finds  him  on  the  trail,  now  ye  bet  yer  life,"  waa 
one  comment. 

"  Thar's  nary  tree  between  hero  and  Bridger  big 
enough  to  hang  a  man  on,  'cordin'  to  them  things,"  said 
another,  waving  his  pipe  toward  the  rude  bulletins  on  the 
cabin  wall.  "  See,  nothin'  but  '  No  wood  '  on  'em,  from 
here  to  Salt  Lake,  so  far  as  I  kin  see." 

The  boys,  after  this,  did  find  a  rough  road,  and  they 
were  glad  enough  that  they  were  within  reach  of  help. 
Rose's  drove  of  cattle  was  drawn  upon  often  for  fresh  re 
cruits  for  the  yoke.  Here,  too,  they  found  the  springs 
often  poisoned  with  alkali.  Some  of  the  shallow  pools 
were  colored  a  dark  brown  with  the  alkali  in  the  soil. 
Others  were  white  about  the  edges  with  a  dry  powder 
which  looked  and  tasted  like  saleratus.  The  cattle  re 
fused  to  drink  the  stuff ;  and  now,  along  the  track,  they 
met  a  great  many  animals  turned  out  to  die,  suffering 
from  the  effects  of  the  alkali  which  they  carelessly  lapped 
up  with  their  scanty  feed.  Here  and  there  they  met  a 
few  poor  fellows  limping  along  with  all  their  possessions 
packed  on  their  backs.  These  had  lost  their  cattle,  one 
by  one,  and  had  been  obliged  to  abandon  their  wagons 
and  baggage.  Taking  a  sack  of  flour,  a  frying  pan,  a  few 
pieces  of  "  side  meat,"  or  bacon,  some  coffee,  and  a  tin  cup, 
these  courageous  fellows  went  forward,  determined  to  get 
through,  somehow.  Usually  they  managed  to  sell  some 
part  of  their  outfit.  The  rest  they  left  by  the  side  of  the 
wagon  track.  But,  begging,  borrowing,  or  buying  from 
day  to  day,  they  trudged  on  with  their  faces  turned  west 
ward — alwavs  westward. 


132  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

"  Hello  1  what's  that  on  that  wagon  ? —  Or  Bust ' — and 
a  gaudy  old  wagon  it  is,"  said  Hi,  one  day. 

The  wagon  was  a  two- wheeled  affair,  drawn  by  one 
yoke  of  oxen,  and  looking  exactly  like  one-half  of  what 
might  have  been  long  vehicle.  On  the  canvas  was  painted 
the  words, "  Or  Bust,"  which  had  attracted  Hi's  attention. 

This  strange-looking  craft  was  creeping  along  in  the 
shadow  of  Independence  Rock,  when  overtaken  by  our 
party.  Barnard,  recognizing  the  good-natured  young 
fellow  who  was  driving,  said  : 

"  What's  happened  to  your  wagon  since  we  saw  you  at 
Council  Bluffs  3 " 

The  man  laughed  lightly,  and  replied :  "  "Well,  you  see, 
Jake  and  I,  we  couldn't  agree  with  our  pardners— Jake's 
brother  Joe  and  Bill  Jenness — so  we  divided." 

"  How  ?  Divided  everything  ?  " 

"  Sartin,  sartin.  We  couldn't  go  on  without  a  wagon, 
you  know.  So  we  sawed  the  old  thing  in  two.  Thar  was 
a  ch'ice  ;  the  fore  part  had  the  tongue,  and  we  played  a 
game  of  seven-up  for  the  cli'ice.  Joe  and  Bill  held  over 
us — beat  us  by  one  p'int ;  and  they've  gone  on  with  their 
share  of  the  waggin." 

"  So  your  brother  Joe  has  gone  with  the  '  California ' 
part  of  your  wagon  ?  "  said  Mont,  addressing  Jake  Russell, 
one  of  a  quarrelsome  family. 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it,"  surlily  replied  Jake.  "  It 
was  '  Californy  or  Bust.'  Joe  and  Bill  have  got  the  '  Cali 
forny'  and  we've  got  the  'Bust.'  Howsoever,  if  you  go 
round  on  the  other  side,  you'll  see  we  've  got '  Californy ' 
there,  too.  We've  got  the  entire  thing,  but  a  feller  has 
to  go  all  around  us  to  see  it." 

"Couldn't  you  agree  about  the  road?"  asked  Hi,  witi 
come  curiosity. 


IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  CONTINENT.  133 

"No,  it  was  beans." 

"  Beans? "  said  Hi,  opening  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,  beans,"  answered  Jacob,  growing  angry.  u  \ 
don't  give  in  to  no  ornery  half-baked  sucker,  even  if  he  ia 
my  brother.  An'  when  it  comes  to  beans  cooked  in  a 
ground  oven,  when  wood  is  plenty,  and  you  have  time  to 
dig  yer  oven  and  can  spare  yer  camp-kettle  long  enough 
to  bake  'em  over  night,  I  'in  thar.  But  beans  is  better  and 
more  economical- like  stewed.  Leastways,  I  think  so.  Joe, 
he  don't  think  so.  Bill  Jenness — well,  he  always  was  a 
pore  shoat — he  don't  think  so.  So  we  divided  the  plunder 
and  are  going  through.  Gee !  Lion  ! — whar  be  yer  goin' 
to  ?  The  most  obstinatest  steer  I  ever  see.  Good  day  !  " 

And  the  men  who  preferred  their  beans  stewed  drove 
on. 

Independence  Rock  was  such  a  famous  landmark  that 
our  boys  could  not  pass  it  without  climbing  it.  The  rock 
is  an  immense  ledge,  rising  nearly  one  hundred  feet  from 
the  ground ;  it  is  almost  flat  on  top,  and  covers  a  space 
equal  to  an  acre  or  two.  All  around  it  the  country  is 
undulating,  but  without  any  large  rocks.  Independence 
Rock  looms  up  like  a  huge  flat  bowlder  left  there  by  mis 
take  when  the  world  was  built.  Resting  their  team,  the 
party  scrambled  up  the  enormous  mass.  The  top  was 
worn  by  the  flow  of  uncounted  ages.  Here  and  there 
were  depressions  in  which  little  pools  left  by  the  /ate  rains 
were  standing ;  and  all  around  on  the  smooth  places  of 
the  rock,  were  chiseled  the  names,  or  initials,  of  passing 
emigrants.  Some  of  these  were  laboriously  carved,  some 
were  painted  with  the  soft  tar  which  should  have  been 
saved  to  use  on  wagon  wheels.  On  the  perpendicular  wall 
of  the  rock,  facing  the  west,  was  a  roughly  cut  inscription 
setting  forth  how  "  Joshua  F.  Gibbonson,  a  native  of  Nor 


134 


THE  DOT  EMIGRANTS. 


way,  aged  24  yrs,"  was  buried  near.     Another  gave  th« 
name  and  age  of  a  yznog  woman,  also  sleeping  close  al 


ARTHUR. 


Arthur,  walkii-g  over  the  multitude  of  letters  inscribed 
en  the  top  of  the  rock,  suddenly  paused,  and,  looking 
down  at  his  feet,  exclaimed :  "  liill  Buiice ! " 


IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  CONTINENT.  133 

The  rest,  hurrying  up,  saw  on  the  rugged  surface  this 
inscription  :  "W.  BUNCE. 

"  But  his  name  is  Bill.  That 's  a  W,"  said  Johnny; 
gazing  at  the  mysterious  letters  with  a  sort  of  fascination, 

Mont  and  Barney  laughed,  and  Arty  said  :  "  To  be  sure 
his  name  is  Bill,  but  it  was  William  before  it  was  Bill, 
and  so  he  spells  it  with  a  W." 

"  I  don't  believe  it's  Bill  Bunce,  anyhow,"  said  Hi. 
"  He  wouldn't  be  such  a  fool  as  to  leave  his  name  like 
that  here,  wrhere  he  knows  people  are  looking  for  him." 

Mont  got  down  on  his  knees  to  inspect  the  letters,  as  if 
he  thought  they  might  give  him  some  clue  to  the  man 
who  had  carved  them,  and  had  then  gone  on,  leaving  this 
mute  witness  behind  him.  He  shook  his  head,  and  said  : 

"  I  don't  know,  Hi.  Guilty  men,  somehow,  always  drop 
something  by  which  they  can  be  traced.  If  he  stole  old 
Columbus's  money,  it  is  just  as  likely  as  not  he  would  be 
foolish  enough  to  put  this  here.  Anyhow,  I  guess  this  is 
Bill  Bunco's  autograph." 

Nothing  positive  came  of  the  discussion ;  but  Johnny 
lingered  over  the  letters,  and  murmured  to  himself : 

"  If  they  could  only  tell,  now  ! " 

"  But  they  are  silent  letters,  Johnny,"  whispered  Arty, 
who  had  stayed  behind  with  his  little  mate.  The  boy 
laughed,  without  understanding  why,  and  the  youngsters 
left  the  inscription  still  staring  up  to  the  sky  above  the 
rook. 

Passing  Devil's  Gate,  and  camping  on  the  western  side 
of  that  famous  gap  a  few  days  after,  the  boys  felt  that  they 
were  at  last  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  Gate  is  a  huge 
chasm,  its  black  rocky  walls  towering  up  on  either  side. 
Westward  is  a  grassy  plain,  dotted  with  trees,  and  afford 
ing  a  ch arming  camping-ground.  Here  the  young  erai 


1 36  THE  BO  F  EMIGRANTS. 

grants  pitched  their  tent,  in  the  midst  of  a  mighty  com 
pany.  From  a  hundred  camp-fires  arose  the  odors  cf 
many  suppers,  and,  as  the  sun  went  down  behind  the 
purple  peaks,  the  cheerful  groups  made  a  pretty  picture, 
framed  by  the  blue  and  gray  ledges,  covered  with  vines, 
which  stretched  around  the  amphitheatre. 

"  That's  a  mighty  knowin'  dog  of  your'n,"  said  a  visitor 
lounging  by  the  camp-stove  and  watching  Arty  cooking 
flap-jacks. 

"Yes,"  said  Arty,  "It's  agreed  that  he  is  to  have  every 
flap-jack  that  I  lose  when  I  toss  'em  up — so ; "  and   he 
tossed  his  pan  dexterously  in  the  air,  and  brought  his  flap 
jack  down  again  in  it,  brown  side  up. 

"  Sometimes  when  the  wind  blows,  I  can't  exactly  cal 
culate  the  force  of  it,  and  away  goes  the  flap-jack  over  on 
the  ground.  That's  Pete's,  and  he  goes  for  it  before  it 
lights.  He  can  tell  whether  it  will  miss  the  pan  or  not." 

"And  I'll  match  Arty  at  tossing  flap-jacks  with  any 
grown  man  on  the  plains,"  said  Hi,  with  a  glow  of  honest 
pride.  "  You  bet  that  dog  don't  get  many,  'cept  when 
the  wind  blows  variable-like." 

Just  then,  Pete  who  was  assiduously  gnawing  a  bone, 
ran  to  Arty,  crying  with  pain,  and  put  his  head  on  tho 
boy's  knee.  Arthur  tenderly  stroked  the  poor  brute's  jaw. 
and  exclaimed : 

"  Poor  old  Pete !  You  see  he  has  had  a  bad  blow  on 
the  side  of  his  head  at  some  time.  I  think  some  of  tho 
small  bones  are  broken.  When  he  gets  his  jaw  into  a  cer 
tain  position,  it  hurts  him  confoundedly,  and  he  runs  to 
me.  I  found  out  that  I  could  relieve  him  by  softly  pressing 
the  place — so  fashion.  See  1 " 

A  sudden  light  gleamed  in  the  man's  face,  and  he 
eaid: 


IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  CONTINENT.  137 

"  I  know  that  dog.  I  saw  him  back  en  the  Platlc  with 
a  couple  of  chaps — scamps  I  should  say.  One  had  a  game 
leg,  and  I  saw  him  bang  that  very  identical  dog  with  tho 
butt  of  his  gun,  just  because  he  scared  up  a  big  jack  rabbit. 
Powerful  cruel  it  was." 

"  Aha ! "  said  Barney.  "  That's  Bill  Buuce  again.  Where 
was  this,  stranger  ? " 

u  Well,  I  disremember  now.  But  I  allow  it  was  on  the 
other  side  of  Chimney  Rock,  say  about  the  latter  part  of 
June." 

"  That  would  give  the  thieves  time  to  come  up  from 
Loup  Fork,"  said  Barney,  who  told  their  visitor  the  story 
of  Bill  Bunco  and  his  companions.  But  the  stranger 
declared  that  the  only  companion  of  the  man  with  the  dog 
was  a  fellow  with  a  hare-lip.  He  added: 

"And  I  just  believe  that  there  dog  got  up  and  dusted 
out  of  that,  he  was  treated  so  all-fired  mean." 

Soon  after  this,  the  emigrants  entered  the  great  passage 
through  the  mountains — South  Pass.  It  was  not  easy  to 
realize  that  they  were  actually  going  over  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  The  emigrant  road  gradually  ascended  the 
enormous  ridge  which  forms  the  backbone  of  the  conti 
nent — so  gradually  that  the  ascent  was  hardly  noticed.  To 
the  north  and  south  were  grand  peaks,  purple  in  the  dis 
tance,  silvery  with  streaks  of  snow,  and  piercing  the 
clou  Is.  Nearer,  the  gray  masses  were  broken  into  chasms, 
and  were  partly  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of  trees. 
As  they  pressed  on,  the  road  mounted  higher  and  higher. 
l>sit  the  way  was  easy,  broad,  and  pleasant  to  travel.  The 
nights  were  cold— so  cold  that  the  boys  wer<  thankful  for 
the  shelter  of  their  tent ;  and  they  cowered  under  all  the 
nlankets  and  coverings  they  could  collect.  But  the  days 
were  hot,  and  though  the  travelers  might  turn  out  in  th« 


j  38  TUB  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

morning  air,  their  teeth  chattering  with  cold,  they  marohed 
along  at  noon  perspiring  in  the  sun. 

Snow  crept  down  nearer  and  nearer  to  their  track,  froir. 
up  among  the  steep  slopes  which  hnng  ahove  the  pass. 
While  camping  one  day  in  this  region,  Captain  Rose  and 
some  of  our  boys  went  up  to  the  snow-banks  and  had  a 
July  game  of  snow-ball.  They  brought  back  flowers 
gathered  at  the  edge  of  the  melting  snow ;  and  they  re 
ported  butterflies  and  mosquitoes  fluttering  over  the  banks, 
as  if  brought  to  life  by  the  dazzling  sun.  These  reports 
seemed  like  travelers'  tales,  difficult  of  belief,  but  they 
were  all  verified  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  unbelievers. 

One  day,  they  reached  a  spring  of  which  they  had  often 
heard.  They  approached  it  with  a  certain  feeling  of  awe. 
It  was  on  the  dividing  ridge  of  the  continent.  It  was 
a  boggy  pool,  rising  out  of  a  mass  of  rock  and  turf, 
trampled  by  many  feet  and  spreading  out  into  a  consid 
erable  space.  Some  wayfarer  had  set  up  a  rude  sign 
board,  on  which  was  inscribed  the  name — "  Pacific  Spring." 
Stepping  from  rock  to  rock,  the  boys  made  their  way  to 
the  fountain-head,  and  silently  gazed  on  the  source  of  a 
stream  that  divided  itself  between  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Pacific. 

Here  the  emigrant  trail  pitched  abruptly  down  a  rocky 
canon  to  the  west.  The  water  flowing  from  the  spring  and 
saturating  the  grassy  soil,  was  parted  by  a  low,  sharp 
ledge  of  rock.  From  this,  two  little  rivulets  crept  away, 
one  to  the  east,  one  to  the  west.  One  gurgled  down  into 
the  canon,  was  joined  by  numberless  runnels  from  the 
Enow-peaks  above,  meandered  away  for  many  miles,  sank 
into  Green  River,  flowed  south  and  west  to  the  Colorado, 
entered  the  Gulf  of  California,  and  was  lost  in  the  Pacific. 
The  other  slipped  silently  down  the  long  slope  by  whicb 


IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  CONTINENT. 

the  boy  emigrants  had  come,  joined  itself  to  other  tiny 
streams,  and  so,  finding  the  far-off  Missouri,  by  the  way  of 
the  Yellowstone,  reached  the  Mississippi,  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  and  the  Atlantic. 

"Go,  little  stream,"  said  Mont,  "and  tell  the  folks  at 
home  that  we  have  left  the  old  wjrld.  Boys ',  this  ia  a 
new  world  before  us  now." 

"  We  are  on  the  down-hill  grade,"  added  Hi.  "  "We  can 
scoot  to  Calif orny  now.  Westward  it  is,  and  we  are  agoin1 
with  the  stream." 

Barney  turned  and  looked  back.  "  We  are  on  the  wall. 
Shall  we  go  down  on  the  other  side,  Arty  ?  " 

But  Arty  said  :  "  I  should  be  glad  if  I  could  send  a 
message  back  to  the  folks  at  Sugar  Grove.  It  would  be 
like  a  message  out  of  the  sea.  As  long  as  we  can't  do  that, 
suppose  we  follow  the  other  stream  to  the  Pacific  ? " 

"  We  cannot  be  sentimental  over  this  spring,  my  boy," 
said  Mont,  laughing.  "But,  as  Hi  says,  we  are  going 
with  the  current  now.  That's  it!  Westward  is  the 
word ! " 

"  Come  on,  boys ! "  shouted  Captain  Eose,  from  the 
down-hill  road.  "  It's  a  rough  drive  yet  to  Sunset  Canon." 

So  the  young  fellows  followed  the  stream,  and  tun.ed 
their  faces  again  to  the  west. 


1 40  THE  SO  T  EM10RA  NT& 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LAUGHTER   AND    TEAKS. 

"  WAUGU  !  how  I  hate  hog-meat  ? "  exclaimed  Laniard, 
looking  in  his  plate  of  fried  bacon,  with  an  expression  oi 
extreme  disgust. 

"  And  no  game  since  week  before  last,"  added  Arthur 
dolefully. 

"  When  you  can't  get  butter,  you  must  make  salt  pork 
do,  my  old  grandmother  used  to  say,"  was  Mont  Morse's 
•wise  comment  on  this  outbreak  of  discontent.  "  We  en 
listed  for  the  campaign  with  hog-meat,  boys,  and  you  won't 
back  out  now,  will  you  ?  " 

"  But  we  did  reckon  on  more  game,  you  know,"  argued 
Barney;  "and  we  have  had  precious  little  since  we  got 
out  of  the  antelope  country. 

"  Tou  disremember  the  dogs  and  frogs,"  said  Hi,  with 
a  grimace. 

Both  the  Stevens  boys  laughed.  When  they  were  in 
the  prairie-dog  region,  they  had  killed  and  eaten  all  the 
animals  they  could  get  at.  But  Hi  had  steadfast1--?  refused 
to  "eat  dog,"  as  he  expressed  it,  ani  his  brother  Torn  had 
thought  it  necessary  to  follow  his  example.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Mont  had  urged  that  "  prairie-dogs  "  were  not  dogs 
at  all,  but  a  kind  of  marmot ;  that  they  fed  on  roots  and 
vegetables,  and  that  their  meat  was  as  sweet  and  whole- 
gome  as  that  of  rabbits. 

"  i^ou  needn't  tell  me."  was  Hi's  constant  reply.   "  Thej 


LAUGHTER  AND  TEARS.  141 

set  up  on  eend  and  bark  just  like  dogs.  They  live  with 
rattlesnakes  and  owls,  and  they  are  not  fit  for  a  white  man 
to  eat.  Fremont  may  eat  dogs,  but  I  won't,  until  I'm 
starving." 

His  refusal  to  partake  of  this  strange  food,  as  he  con 
sidered  it,  gave  the  others  a  larger  share.  The  prairie- 
dogs,  numerous  though  they  were,  were  never  plenty  in 
the  camp.  They  sat  up  cunningly  on  their  haunches  and 
barked  at  the  hunters,  very  much  in  the  squeaky  fashion 
of  toy-dogs ;  but,  when  shot  at,  they  tumbled  into  their 
holes  and  were  seldom  recovered,  even  though  severely 
wounded.  They  posted  themselves  by  the  opening  of 
their  dens,  each  one  a  sentinel  to  warn  of  danger.  When 
they  fell  over,  their  comrades  below  dragged  them  into 
the  burrow,  where  the  young  hunters  could  hear  them 
whining  and  crying,  in  a  half -human  fashion,  over  their 
wonnds.  They  were  good  to  eat,  but  tender-hearted 
Arthur,  much  as  he  desired  a  change  from  their  diet  of 
"  side-meat,"  never  could  take  pleasure  in  killing  the 
pretty  little  creatures. 

As  for  frogs,  when  the  party  occasionally  reached  a 
pond  of  melted  snow-water,  warmed  by  the  summer  sun 
and  musical  with  frogs,  Mont  rolled  up  his  trousers,  and, 
armed  with  a  thick  stick,  waded  in  and  slew  them,  right 
and  left. 

"  But  Boston  folks  consider  them  a  great  luxury,"  he 
remonstrated,  when  Hi  and  Tom  expressed  their  profound 
disgust  at  such  a  proceeding.  "  Take  off  the  hind-lege, 
ekin  them  and  fry  them — what  can  you  want  better  ? " 

"  Hog-meat,"  replied  Hi,  sententiously. 

But  it  must  be  confessed  that  Hi  looked  on  witn  in 
terest  while  Mont  and  Barnard  daintily  nibbled  at  the 


THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

delicate  bones  of  the  frogs'  legs,  nicely  browned  and  hav 
ing  all  the  appearance  of  fried  chicken. 

"  Stands  to  reason,"  muttered  Hi,  with  his  mouth 
watering,  "  that  frogs  is  vermin,  and  vermin  ain't  fit  to 
eat." 

They  were  drawing  near  Salt  Lake  City  now,  and  even 
the  small  game  which  Hi  and  Tom  despised  was  no  longer 
to  be  had.  Occasionally  they  shot  a  hare,  one  of  the 
long-eared,  long-legged  kind  known  as  the  jackass-rabbit. 
Sage-hens,  too,  had  been  plentiful  in  some  localities,  and 
though  the  flesh  of  these  was  dark  and  bitter  with  the 
wild  sage  on  which  they  fed,  the  addition  of  a  brace  of 
them  to  their  daily  fare  was  a  great  event.  Now,  how 
ever,  they  were  reduced  to  their  staple  of  smoked  "  hog- 
meat  "  once  more. 

They  had  been  lying  by  for  a  few  days,  hoping  that  they 
might  find  some  game  while  they  recruited  their  stock 
John  Rose  and  Mont  had  scoured  the  country  with  their 
rifles,  but  they  brought  back  nothing  from  their  long 
tramps.  Flour  biscuit,  fried  salt  meat,  and  coffee  without 
milk,  formed  their  regular  bill  of  fare  now.  The  cows  in 
the  drove  had  ceased  to  give  milk,  and  the  boys  were  re 
duced  to  the  "  short  commons  "  which  they  had  been  taught 
to  expect. 

Nevertheless,  they  were  better  provided  than  many 
emigrants  whom  they  met  on  the  way.  A  company  of  Ger 
mans,  with  whom  they  traveled,  had  nothing  in  their  stores 
but  smoked  sausages,  flour,  and  coffee. 

"  No  sugar  ?  "  asked  Arty,  in  amazement. 

"  Nein,"  civilly  replied  the  genial  German. 

"  No  baking-powders  ?  no  salt  ?  " 

"  Nein.  No  kraut/'  responded  the  traveler  with  glooir 
in  his  face. 


LAUGHTER  AXD  TEARS. 

Nevertheless,  the  light-hearted  Germans  had  a  merrj 
earip.  And,  when  they  marched  on  by  day,  they  locked 
arras  over  each  other's  shoulders,  and  kept  step  to  tho 
music  of  their  own  songs,  singing  as  they  went. 

"  Queer  chaps  those  singing  Dutchmen,"  mused  Hi,  aa 
he  watched  them,  day  by  day  striding  along  and  singing 
the  marching  songs  of  their  native  land.  The  boys  heard 
jme  of  their  favorite  pieces  so  often  that  Mont  caught  the 
words  and  wrote  them  down.  So  one  day,  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  the  rest  of  the  party,  Mont  and  Arty  locked  arms 
and  marched  down  the  trail,  singing  thus  : 

Wohlauf  in  Gottes  schone  Welt ! 

Ade !  ade !  ade ! 
Die  Luft  ist  blau,  und  griin  das  Feld — 

Ade !  ade  !  ade ! 
Die  Berge  gliih'n  wie  Edelstein; 
Ich  wandre  mit  dexn  Sonnenschein 
In'B  weite  Land  hinein. 

Ade  1  ade ! 

Du  traute  Stadt  am  Bergeshang, 

Ade  !  ade  !  ade ! 
Du  hoher  Thurm,  du  Glockenklang, 

Ade  !  ade !  ade  ! 
Ihr  Hiiuser  alle,  wohl  bekannt, 
Ncch  einuial  wink'  ich  mit  der  Hand, 
Und  nun  seitab  gewandt  1 

Ade !  ade ! 

An  meinem  Wege  flieszt  c  er  Bach — • 

Ade !  ade !  ade ! 
Der  ruft  den  letzten  Grusz  mir  nach— 

Ade  !  ade !  ade  ! 

Ash,  Gott !  da  wird  so  eigen  mit, 
S3  milde  weh'n  die  Liifte  hier, 
Ala  war's  ein  Grusz  von  dir— 

Ade !   ade 1 


H4  TEE  BO  7  EMIGRANTS. 

Ein  Grusz  von  dir.  du  schlankes  Kind— 

Ade  !  ade  !  ade ! 
Doch  nun  den  Berg  hinab  geechwind — 

Ade  1  ade  !  ade  ! 

Wer  wandern  will,  der  darf  nicht  steh'n, 
Der  darf  niemals  zuriicke  seh'n, 
Musz  imnier  weiter  geh'n. 

Ade  1  ade  ! 

"But  that's  Dutch!"   exclaimed  Hi.      'Give  us  lh« 

English  of  it ! " 

"  No ;  it's  German,"  said  Arty,  laughing  at  his  success 
as  a  "  Singing  Dutchman." 

"  What's  the  odds  3  "  replied  Hi.  "  It's  as  Dutch  as 
Dutch  kin  be.  I  don't  see  no  difference  between  Dutch 
and  German." 

"  Well,"  said  Mont,  "  we  will  give  you  the  English  of  it 
some  day."  And  when,  not  long  after,  Mont  read  his 
translation  of  the  verses  by  the  night  camp-fire,  the  whole 
party  were  loud  in  their  praises  of  their  marching-song. 
•  "  It's  a  great  thing  to  be  a  scholar,"  sighed  Hi,  with  a 
glance  of  envy  at  the  rude  verses  of  the  young  "  Boston 
feller."  And  he  murmured,  with  a  thrill  of  honest  admira 
tion  :  "  That  thar  feller  kin  set  a  wagon-tire  witli  any 
man  on  the  plains.  It  do  beat  all  how  some  folks  is 
gifted!" 

They  overtook  the  "  Singing  Dutchmen,"  one  bright  day 
Boon  after  this,  and  great  was  the  delight  of  those  sturdj 
trampers  to  see  our  boys  marching  by,  sedately  singing  as 
thoy  went  Mont's  free  translation  of  their  own  song,  some 
thing  like  this: 

Forward  in  God's  beautiful  world  ! 

Farewell !  farewell !  farewell ! 
The  sky  is  blue,  and  green  the  fields — 

Farewell !  farewell !  f  are**  ell ! 


LA  TIGHTER  AND  TEARS.  145 

The  mountains  gleam  like  jewels  bright ; 
I  wander  in  the  warm  sunlight, 
Far  into  distant  lands. 
Farewell !  farewell ! 


Dear  village  by  the  mountain-side, 
Farewell !  farewell !  farewell ! 

Thou  lofty  tower,  ye  chiming  bells, 
Farewell !  farewell !  farewell ! 

Ye  happy  homes,  well-known  to  me, 

Toward  you  once  more  I  wave  my  hand, 

But  turn  away  mine  eyes  I 
Farewell !  farewell  I 

Beside  my  pathway  flows  the  brook — 
Farewell  !  farewell !  farewell ! 

Which  calls  to  me  a  last  farewell — 
Farewell !  farewell !  farewell  I 

Ah,  Heaven  above,  so  sad  am  1 1 

The  zephyrs  float  so  softly  by, 

As  if  they  brought  from  thee  a  sigh — 
FareweH !  farewell ! 

From  thee  a  sigh,  though  fairest  maid  I 
Farewell !  farewell !  farewell ! 

But  down  the  hill-side  now  I  speed — 
Farewell  !  farewell !  farewell ! 

For  he  who  wanders  must  not  pause, 

Nor  once  behind  him  cast  his  glance, 

But  forward,  forward  march. 
Farewell  I  farewell  I 


"Ach!    it  is  better  as   never  vas,"  cried    the   hcncsl 
Germans. 

"  Where  get  you  so  much,  good  song,  mine  friend t  * " 
asked  one  of  the  party,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  enthusiasm. 

"  We  borrowed  it  from  you,"  said  Mont,  modestly.     "  I 
hope  you  don't  think  us  rude." 
7 


1  10  TEE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

"  Rudt  ?  It  is  a  what  you  call  a  gompliment,  and  wo 
to  you  are  much  obliged,"  was  the  hearty  reply. 

"  He  did  it.  all  by  himself,"  said  Hi,  proudly.  ''  U« 
turned  it  into  English  from  Dutch,  and  he  sings  it  bo*h 
ways  like  a  reg'lar  medder-lark — so  he  does." 

"Yaw/'  answered  the  German  emigrant,  as  if  in  doult 
whether  he  understood  Hi's  explanations. 

Barnard,  not  to  be  outdone,  drilled  Arthur  and  Tom  in 
a  marching-song  of  his  own,  and  one  day  produced  this 
novelty. 

"  When  we  lived  in  Yermont,"  said  Barney,  "  there 
was  a  military  company  in  our  village.  There  were  not 
men  enough  to  make  two  companies,  the  place  was  so 
small.  So  the  same  men  appeared  as  an  infantry  com 
pany  one  month,  and  as  an  artillery  company  the  next. 
They  had  a  snare  drum  and  a  bass  drum  when  they  turned 
out  as  infantry  ;  but  when  they  paraded  as  artillery,  with 
one  cannon,  they  had  a  spare  man,  so  they  used  to  carry 
two  bass  drums  and  the  snare  drum.  This  is  the  way  the 
infantry  band  went."  And  Barney  got  up  and  marched 
around  the  camp-fire,  Arty  and  Tom  following  with — 


"  Boomer  lacker  !  boomer  lacker  I 

Boom  !  boom  1  boom  I 
Boomer  lacker  !  boomer  lacker  ! 
Boom  1  boom  1  boom  !  " 


Everybody  laughed  uproariously  at  the  whimsical  sight 
of  the  lads,  who  were  half -undressed  for  the  night,  as  they 
paraded  around  and  about,  chanting  the  odd  melody  of 
the  village  drum-corps.  Then,  with  solemn  step  and  slowj 
they  changed  their  marching  tune  to  the  stat>:  Jier  music  of 
the  artillery  band. 


LA  UGHTER  AHD  TEARS.  141 

"  Ilere  go  the  two  bass  drums  and  the  tenor/  cried 
Arty. 

"  Boom  dum  dardy  I  Boom  dum  dardy  1 

How's  your  marm  ? 
Boom  dum  dardy !  Boom  dum  dardy  ! 

How's  your  marm  ? 
Oh,  she's  boozy,  boozy,  boozy,  boozy ! 
Boom  dum  dardy  1  Boom  dum  dardy  I  " 
&c.,  &c. 

"  Ho  !  ho  1  what  nonsense !  "  roared  Hi.  "  But  it's  just 
like  a  couple  of  bass  drums.  I  think  I  here  'em  now  " — 
and,  lying  back  on  his  pile  of  blankets,  Hi  laughed  again, 
Mont  and  the  rest  joining  in  the  chorus. 

The  boys  practised  this  marching  song  as  they  had  the 
others,  and  their  fellow-travelers  were  often  thereafter 
edified  with  the  rough  music  which  the  party  made  as  they 
stepped  out  with  alacrity,  chanting — 

"  Boomer  lacker  !  boomer  lacker  ! 
Boom  !  boom !  boom  I  " 

Or  they  assumed  a  more  funeral  gait  as  they  walked,  and 

BUlg — 

"  Boom  dura  dardy  !  Boom  dum  dardy  I 
HOW'B  your  marm  ?  " 

Their  laughter  was  hushed  when  Nance,  whose  family 
bad  come  up  with  them  lately,  marched  up  to  their  tent 
one  night  with  the  solemn  announcement  of  "  The  baby's 
dead ! " 

"  What  baby  ?  "  they  asked,  with  a  startled  air. 

"Just  like  stoopid  men-folks,  you  air  1 "  replied  the  girl. 
But  she  addei,  with  a  softened  tone :  "  Why,  it's  the 
Messer  f olkses  baby.  Them  that  was  upsot  in  Dry  Creek 
and  had  a  lovely  boimit  along." 


H8  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS, 

u  It  was  the  sick  baby  that  we  tended  down  there  just 
tin's  side  of  Papeses,  ye  know,  Arty,"  said  Tom,  with 
solemnity. 

Old  Mrs.  Eose,  Captain  John's  mother,  who  sat  near  by, 
Baid :  "  I  knowed  she'd  never  raise  that  there  child.  It 
allns  was  a  weakly  thing.  It's  a  marcy  it's  took  away 
now  " — and  the  good  old  woman  knocked  the  ashes  out  of 
her  pipe,  and  sighed. 

"  Death  in  the  camp,"  thought  Barney  to  himself,  and 
he  looked  around  and  wondered  how  it  would  seem  if 
death  was  in  their  camp  as  it  was  in  their  neighbor's.  Ilia 
eyes  rested  lovingly  on  his  brother's  golden  head,  and  he 
asked  :  "  Can  we  be  of  any  service,  do  you  think,  Nance  ?  '- 

"  I  reckon.  The  baby's  to  be  buried  at  sun-up  to-mor 
row;  and  dad  said  if  one  of  you  fellers  would  go  down  to 
the  mouth  of  the  cafion  with  him  to-night,  he'd  help  dig 
a  little  grave."  And  the  girl  turned  away  to  hide  her 
tears  as  she  uttered  the  words  so  full  of  sadness  to  all  ears. 

The  boys  eagerly  volunteered  to  assist  in  everything 
that  was  to  be  done ;  and  by  the  edge  of  a  dry  ravine, 
under  a  lone  tree,  they  hollowed  a  little  cell  before  they 
slept. 

Next  day,  before  the  camps  were  broken  up,  all  of  the 
emigrants  on  the  ground  gathered  about  the  wagon  of  the 
Messers,  where  a  little  white  bundle  was  lying  on  a  pile 
of  yokes,  covered  smoothly  with  a  blanket.  On  this  white 
shape  was  laid  a  poor  little  knot  of  stunted  cactus-flowers, 
'he  only  blooming  thing  which  the  arid  plains  produced. 
Is  ear  by  was  the  mother,  crouched  on  the  ground  and 
moaning  to  herself,  "  Such  a  little  thing ! — such  a  little 
thing  1 " 

"  It's  powerful  rough  to  have  to  oury  the  1  aby  out  yer« 


LAUGHTER  AND  TEARS.  M9 

in  the  wilderness-like,"  complained  the  fathtr.  "I  wish  I 
hadn't  a-corae." 

"Don't  take  on  so,  ole  man,"  said  his  wife.  "He's 
better  on't — he's  better  on't." 

The  youngest  boys  raised  the  burden  at  a  signal  from 
Captain  Hose.  They  bore  it  to  the  open  grave,  all  the 
company  following  with  uncovered  heads.  Then  the  little 
white  bundle  was  lowered  tenderly  into  the  earth.  The 
tearful  mother  picked  up  the  yellow  cactus-flowers,  which 
had  fallen  to  the  ground,  kissed  them  and  cast  them  in. 
Then  stout  branches  of  sage-brush,  were  laid  over  the 
figure  beneath,  forming  a  shelter  from  the  soil. 

A  white-haired  old  man,  the  patriarch  of  one  of  the 
companies,  lifted  up  his  hands  and  prayed  by  the  open 
grave.  There  was  a  stifled  sigh  here  and  there  in  the  little 
assemblage  when  he  spoke  of  "  the  loved  ones  left  behind," 
and  of  others  "  who  had  gone  on  before."  Then  he  said 
a  few  pleasant  and  cheery  words  to  the  mourning  parents, 
who  were  leaving  their  only  child  here  alone  in  the  heart 
of  the  continent. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said,  "  not  here,  but  up  yonder,"  and  he 
pointed  upward,  where  Nance,  whose  wondering  eye  in 
voluntarily  followed  the  speaker's,  saw  a  little  bird  cheeri 
ly  winging  its  solitary  way  across  the  rosy  sky.  She 
plucked  her  mother's  sleeve  and  whispered  :  "  I'm  so  glad 
T  picked  them  posies  !  " 

The  grave  was  filled  up,  the  simple  ceremony  was  over, 
and  each  party  betook  itself  to  preparing  for  another  day's 
journey. 

"  Poor  little  thing !  "  said  Mont.  "  Its  journey  is  done 
early  ;  and  it  rests  j  ust  as  well  here  as  anywhere." 

"  I'm  glad  they  buried  it  in  the  morning,"  added  Ar 
thur.  "  It  is  not  nearly  so  sad  as  it  is  in  the  evening,  when 


150  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

the  shadows  creep  and  creep,  just  as  if  they  would  neve? 
Btop  creeping.  Seems  to  me  it's  a  good  thing  to  bury 
children  at  sunrise.  I  don't  know  why,  though." 

"  Neither  do  I,  Arty,"  said  Hi ;  "  but  a  bnryin'  is  a 
solemn  thing,  for  all  that.  I  allow  it's  the  solemnest  thin*; 
agoin'.  I  was  a-thinkin'  just  now,  when  we  was  takin' 
down  the  tent,  of  a  hymn  my  sister  Pamely  Ann  used  to 
sing.  By  gum,  now !  I've  forgot  the  words,  but  they're 
powerful  nice,"  added  Hi,  looking  rather  foolish.  "  Some 
thing  about  pitching  your  tent,  anyhow." 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  remember,"  said  Arty,  brightly ;  "  it  ia 
this: 

"  '  Here  in  the  body  pent, 

Absent  from  thee  I  roam, 
Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home.'  " 

"  That's  it !  that's  it !  Good  boy,  Arty  !  "  said  Hi,  with 
shining  eyes.  "  Now,  d'yer  know,  I  often  have  them  thai' 
words  a-buzzin'  through  my  head  when  we  set  up  the  tent, 
nights,  all  along  this  yere  trail  ? " 

"  So  do  I,  Hi,"  answered  Mont.  "  And  so  I  do  when 
we  take  it  down  next  day,  because,  somehow,  the  place 
where  we  have  spent  even  one  night  seems  like  home  when 
we  leave  out  of  doors,  as  it  were,  and  go  on,  knowing  we 
shall  never  see  it  again." 

"  Well,  we're  getting  really  sentimental,  Mont,"  eaid 
Barnard,  "  and  all  along  of  that  little  funeral." 

"  1  allow  that  a  funeral,  big  or  little,  is  the  solemnest 
thing  out.  Whoa  haw  !  Bally  !  whar  in  thunder  are  yer 

O  v  v 

goin'  ter  'I  "  And  Hi  drove  on  in  the  train  that  moved  out 
of  camp. 

Nance  trudged  akng  in  the  dust  behind  the  Missoun- 
ttn's  wagon,  holding  on  by  one  hand  to  the  tail-Voard,  bj 


LAUGHTER  AND  TEARS.  151 

way  of  speechless  sympathy.  The  poor  mother  sat  looking 
out  from  the  wagon-cover  as  the  team  moved  slowly  away. 
She  saw  the  deserted  camping-ground,  where  a  few  dying 
fires  were  smoldering  in  ashes.  She  even  marked  the 
lame  and  worn  out  steer  that  some  emigrant  had  left  be 
hind,  and  which  now  stood  looking  wistfully  after  the 
departing  train.  But  most  she  noted  the  little  mound, 
fresh  with  yellow  earth,  and  decently  fenced  about  with 
broken  wagon-tires,  by  the  lone  tree.  The  morning  sun 
gilded  the  small  heap  of  soil  and  deluged  all  the  plain 
with  unsupportable  brightness.  She  shaded  her  eyes  with 
her  hand  and  moaned  :  "  Such  a  little  thing ! — such  a  little 
thing ! " 

Nance's  brown  hand  closed  tenderly  on  the  woman's 
gown,  and  a  few  gracious  tears  dropped  in  the  dust  as 
she  walked. 


152  THE  BO  F  EMIQUANT8. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN  MOKMONDOM. 

THE  way  now  grew  more  and  more  crowded.  It  scorned 
as  if  the  teams  sprang  out  of  the  earth,  they  were  BO  numei 
ous,  and  they  collected  on  the  trail  so  suddenly  day  by  day. 
Desperate  characters,  too,  became  more  frequent  as  the 
tide  of  emigration  drew  near  the  city  of  the  Great  Salt 
Lake.  There  was  much  talk  about  hostile  Indians.  The 
boys  had  heard  this  before,  when  passing  through  the 
Kooky  Mountains.  Once  or  twice,  they  knew  of  Indian 
attacks  before  or  behind  them  ;  and  one  day  they  had  over 
taken  a  party  of  emigrants  who  had  lost  three  of  their 
party  during  one  of  these  attacks.  They  saw,  with  their 
own  eyes,  the  bullet-holes  in  the  wagons  of  this  company, 
and  they  had  helped  to  bury  the  men  left  dead  on  the 
ground,  after  the  firing  was  over  and  the  cowardly  Indians 
were  gone. 

During  that  exciting  and  alarming  time,  they  had 
mounted  guard  every  night  with  the  full  belief  that  they 
might  be  fired  upon  before  morning.  The  cattle  were  kept 
near  the  camp,  and  the  wagons  were  placed  close  together, 
BO  that,  in  case  of  an  attack,  they  could  be  arranged  in  the 
form  of  a  circle,  like  a  fort.  I :  those  days,  while  in  a 
hostile  country,  they  had  plenty  of  company  for  mutual 
assistance,  however,  and  they  almost  lost  the  pleasant  little 
privacy  of  their  own  camp.  They  tr  aveled  with  a  crowd ; 
they  camped  with  a  crowd.  Nance's  father,  Philo  Dobbs, 


(IN  MORMONDOM. 


15? 


and  her  mother,  and  Nance  herself,  formed  one  small 
party  ;  and  they  were  glad  to  keep  along  with  the  Roses 
and  our  boys,  for  the  sake  of  better  security  from  danger, 

]Srow  there  were  rumors  of  the  Goshoots  being  about, 
and  as  the  Goshoots  were  a  marauding  tribe  of  Indians, 
though  not  so  warlike  as  the  Cheyennes,  then  very  un 
friendly,  the  emigrants  were  uneasy.  Between  Fort 
Bridger  and  Salt  Lake  City  was  a  very  bad  section  of 
road.  The  country  was  sandy  and  dry.  Here  and  there 
were  springs  of  poisonous  water,  and  the  undulating  sur 
face  of  the  ground  was  dotted  with  clumps  of  grease- weed 
and  sage-brush  ;  there  was  nothing  for  the  animals  to  feed 
on,  and  no  water  fit  to  drink.  To  get  through  this  desolate 
region,  the  emigrants  traveled  night  and  day  or,  rather, 
one  day  and  one  night. 

The  moon  was  nearly  at  the  full,  and  the  night  was 
pleasant  and  cool.  As  they  drove  on  through  the  shadowy 
hollows  and  over  the  ghostly  ridges,  in  the  moonlight,  ut 
terly  in  the  wilderness,  even  the  cattle  seemed  to  think 


BUSH'S  GO-rART. 


something  unusual  was  going  forward.     Tige  turned  his 
head  every  now  and  then,  and  looked  at  Arthur,  as  much 

7* 


J  54  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

as  to  say,  "  Queer  doings  these,  my  boy."  And  Pete,  whc 
never  barked  except  on  great  occasions,  stalked  along  by 
the  side  of  the  team,  growling  with  suppressed  excitement. 
Everybody  felt  nervous  and  "  scary,"  as  Bush  expressed  it, 
but  very  little  was  said,  and  the  company  swept  on,  wagon 
after  wagon,  bands  of  cattle,  men  on  foot  and  men  on 
horseback,  silently  pressing  on  in  the  night,  in  the  midst 
of  a  wild,  strange  country,  with  danger  lurking  near  and 
an  unknown  and  untrodden  space  before  them. 

About  midnight,  when  the  men  were  beginning  to  feel 
drowsy,  when  the  women  had  climbed  into  the  wagons  to 
sleep,  and  the  cattle  showed  their  fatigue  by  lagging,  a 
sudden  panic  seized  the  whole  line.  Instantly,  the  loose 
cattle  darted  off  in  all  directions,  to  the  right  and  left  of 
the  road,  scampering  among  the  bushes,  with  their  tails  in 
the  air.  The  teams  followed  them,  jolting  and  bouncing 
the  wagons  over  the  hillocks  and  rough  ground,  and  shak 
ing  out  the  women  and  children,  who  fell  out  screaming 
and  terrified.  All  along  the  line  was  confusion  and  dis 
may.  The  men  yelled  at  their  cattle,  but  in  vain.  The 
animals  ran  like  mad  buffaloes,  and  careered  through  the 
sage-brush  pursued  by  their  drivers,  who  could  neither  stop 
nor  turn  them. 

The  ground  was  speedily  strewn  with  camp-stuff,  loose 
garments,  and  mining  "  traps."  Here  and  there,  a  wagon 
was  overturned,  and  the  frantic  oxen  dragged  it  a  little 
way  and  then  stopped  in  sullen  despair.  Tige  and  Molly 
joined  in  the  general  stampede,  and  Arthur  and  Hi  breath 
lessly  pursued,  Barnard  having  tumbled  out  of  the  rear 
end  of  the  wagon,  where  ho  had  been  taking  a  nap.  As 
Arty  caught  up  with  the  team,  and  ran  around  their  heads 
to  turn  them  back,  he  suddenly  saw  a  dusky  figure  rise  up 
from  behind  a  wild-sage  bush,  within  a  few  feet  of  him 


IN  MTORMONDOM.  155 

He  felt  his  hair  raising  on  his  headland  he  instinctively 
reached  behind  him  for  his  revolver.     It  was  gone  ! 

Just  then  the  figure  stumbled  and  fell,  rose  again,  and 
eaid : 

"  I  just  allow  this  yere  is  the  ornerest,  toughest  piece  ol 
ground  I  ever  traveled." 

It  was  Messer,  whose  team  had  disappeared  in  the 
struggling  mass  which  had  now  gathered  at  the  foot  of  a 
rise  of  ground.  Arty  breathed  freer,  and,  with  Mont's 
help,  he  and  Hi  quieted  their  oxen,  stopped  them,  and 
began  to  look  about. 

The  long  procession,  which  had  been  moving  along  so 
quietly  and  steadily  a  few  minutes  before,  was  now 
broken  and  scattered  in  all  directions.  Some  of  the  loose 
cattle  had  disappeared  in  the  darkness,  and  not  a  few 
wagons  lay  overturned  and  half-wrecked  among  the 
bushes.  People  went  wandering  around  seeking  for  their 
comrades  or  gathering  up  their  goods  and  animals.  But 
the  panic  was  over. 

"  It  was  only  a  stampede,  after  all,  Arty,"  said  Hi, 
cheerily, 

"  Well,  if  that's  a  stampede,  I  allow  I  don't  want  any 
more  of  'em,"  said  Tom,  with  his  teeth  still  chattering. 
"  I  own  up  that  I  was  orf  ul  scared.  Wha' — wha's  that  2  " 
he  exclaimed,  starting  back  as  he  spoke. 

"  Nothin',  nothin' ;  ye're  scart  of  yer  own  shadder," 
replied  111,  who  looked  in  the  direction  of  Tom's  fears, 
but  with  a  little  shake  in  his  voice. 

It  was  only  Johnny,  who  was  hunting  about  in  the 
brush  for  Arty's  pistol. 

"  Come  out  of  that  thar  brush,  you  young  one,"  remon 
strated  Hi,  with  some  asperity,  as  he  began  to  straighten 
out  the  team  before  driving  back  to  the  road.  "  'SposV 


156  TEE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

yer'd  be  ketclied  by  the  Goshoots,  who'd  hev  yer  share  oJ 
the  outfit,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  Haw  there,  you  Tige  ! " 

"  D'yer  'spose  there's  Injuns  about,  Hi  ?  "  said  Tom. 

"  Couldn't  say — couldn't  say,  Tom.  Mont  here  allows 
that  Injuns  hev  a  way  of  stampedin'  a  train  like  that 
and  then  firing  into  the  crowd  and  pickin'  off  the  heft 
of  'cm." 

"  Yes,1'  exclaimed  Mont,  "  they  say  that  the  Indiana 
would  sometimes  scare  cattle  and  make  them  stampede  in 
that  way,  and  then  fall  on  the  disordered  train  and  de 
stroy  the  people  and  capture  the  property.  But  we  have 
seen  no  Indians.  They  had  a  chance  to  attack  tis  just 
now,  if  they  wanted  to." 

"  Well,  then,  why  did  the  cattle  all  run  like  that  ? " 
demanded  Arthur.  "  They  must  have  been  scared  by 
something." 

"I  just  allow  it  was  shadders.  The  cattle  were  skittish 
and  scary-like,"  said  Hi.  "  And  I  must  say  I  was  sorter 
panicky  myself,  before  the  stampede  began.  Shadders 
creeping  alongside  of  the  road,  shadders  stealing  along 
behind  in  the  moonlight.  Ouch  !  what's  that  ? " 

Everybody  started,  and  then  everybody  laughed.  It 
was  Pete  who  came  bounding  in  from  the  sage -brush  with 
Barney's  cap,  which  he  had  picked  up  somewhere.  Bar 
ney  had  not  missed  his  cap — he  had  been  so  taken  by 
surprise  when  he  was  shaken  out  of  the  wagon.  Arty 
picked  up  his  pistol  near  where  the  stampede  began,  and. 
after  recovering  the  other  things  scattered  along  the  path 
of  their  erratic  flight,  they  went  back  to  the  road.  Many 
hands  make  light  work ;  the  overturned  wagons  were 
righted,  the  cattle  were  gathered  in,  and  the  train  moved 
on  once  more.  As  usual,  however,  the  panic-stricken 
oxen  did  not  easily  recover  their  calmness.  Once  again 


IN  MORHONDOM.  157 

in  the  course  of  the  night,  terrified  by  the  weird  shadows, 
perhaps,  they  bolted  from  the  track  ;  but  they  were  soon 
brought  back,  and  they  plodded  on  until  daybreak. 

In  a  short  time  after  this  great  scare,  the  young  erai 
grants  passed  into  Echo  Canon,  then  a  famous  resting- 
place  for  the  gold-seekers.  High  walls  of  red,  yellow, 
and  cream-colored  rock  rose  on  either  side.  These  walla 
were  topped  out  with  pinnacles,  towers,  and  steeples. 
It  was  like  a  fairy  scene.  Below  were  charming  groves, 
overshadowing  a  winding  stream.  Above  were  fantastic 
rocky  shapes,  resembling  castles,  donjon-keeps,  cathedral 
spires,  battlements,  and  massive  walls.  Trailing  vines 
grew  in  the  high  crevices  of  the  precipices  and  swung  in 
the  breeze.  The  canon  was  rich  with  grass  and  wild 
berries,  and  here  the  boys  camped  for  several  days,  trying 
curious  experiments  in  cooking  the  fruit  which  grew  so 
abundantly  about  them.  "  Sass,"  as  Hi  called  it,  was  the 
easiest  to  manage.  They  made  a  few  pies,  too  ;  but  the 
pastry  was  made  with  bacon-fat  and  lard,  and  Barnard 
turned  up  his  nose  at  it,  with  the  remark  that  "  it  was 
hog-meat  in  another  shape." 

They  attempted  a  berry  pudding,  and  Nance  lent  them 
a  cloth  to  boil  it  in.  Arty  would  not  permit  the  cover  of 
the  camp  kettle  to  be  taken  off,  as  that  would  "  make  the 
pudding  heavy."  Nance  had  said  so.  When  the  hungry 
company  gathered  about  the  kettle,  at  dinner-time,  to  see 
that  famous  pudding  taken  out,  Arthur  poked  around  in 
a  thin  purple  broth  with  his  stick,  only  to  fish  out  an  un 
pleasant-looking  and  limp  cloth.  The  bag  had  been  tied 
too  tight.  The  pudding  had  burst,  and  was  now  a  por- 
nclge  of  flour,  water,  and  "  sarvice-berries." 

"  1  allow  the  proof  of  that  puddV  ain't  in  the  eatin'  of 
it,"  solemnly  remarked  Eli. 


158  THE  SOY  EMIGRANTS. 

But  Nance  consoled  Arty  by  informing  him  that  thii 
was  an  accident  which  happened  to  the  very  smartest 
folks,  sometimes. 

"  It  ain't  nigh  so  bad  as  scaldin'  yer  bread,  Arty,"  said 
(lie  girl,  with  a  slight  laugh. 

When  they  reached  the  mouth  of  Emigrant  Can  on,  n 
few  days  later,  one  fine  August  morning,  they  gazed  with 
admiration  upon  the  city  in  the  wilderness — Great  Salt 
Lake  City.  The  canon  opened  to  the  west,  high  up  among 
the  mountains.  Below  the  boys  stretched  the  broad  valley 
north  and  south.  Above  their  heads  rose  snowy  peaks ; 
beneath  was  a  vast  plain,  belted  with  winding  streams, 
and  green  and  gold  with  grass,  orchards,  and  grain- 
fields.  In  the  midst  of  this  lovely  panorama  shone  the 
City  of  the  Saints.  It  was  like  a  fairy  city.  It  seemed 
like  a  dream.  Nearly  three  months  had  passed  since 
they  had  seen  a  town,  and  here  was  a  great,  well-built  and 
beautiful  city.  The  houses  were  neutral-tinted  or  white 
washed,  the  roofs  were  red,  and  innumerable  trees  em 
bowered  the  whole.  The  plain,  in  the  midst  of  which  the 
city  was  set  like  a  jewel,  rolled  far  to  the  westward,  where 
it  was  bounded  by  the  shining  waters  of  Great  Salt  Lake. 
Beyond  this  towered  a  range  of  purple  mountains,  their 
fiharp  peaks  laced  with  silvery  snow. 

"  This  is  a  view  from  the  Delectable  Mountains ! " 
murmured  Mont,  as  he  sat  down. 

"  Putty  as  a  picter,"  said  honest  Hi,  leaning  on  hia 
\vhip-stock,  and  gazing  at  the  wonderful  panorama.  "  Bui 
it  reminds  me  of  the  hymn — 

"  '  Where  every  prospect  pleases, 
And  only  man  is  vile.' 

They  do  say  them  Mormons  will  steal  like  all  posses  t." 


IN  MORMOND  OM.  1 59 

It  was  a  difficult  and  a  zig-zag  road  down  the  mountain- 
Bide.  Many  a  wrecked  emigrant-wagon  lay  by  the  side  of 
the  descent,  now  continually  crowded  with  the  trains  of 
the  gold-seekers.  At  one  place,  looking  over  a  low  natu 
ral  parapet,  they  saw  a  wagon  and  four  oxen,  lying  in  a 
heap  of  ruins,  just  where  they  had  fallen  from  the  dLi^y 
height  above.  So,  with  much  trembling  and  anxiety,  they 
crept  down  by  rocky  slopes,  beetling  precipices,  and 
foamy  mountain-torrents,  and  reached  the  grassy  plain  at 
last.  Here  was  comfort — an  easy  road,  plenty  of  feed 
and  water  for  the  cattle,  and  fruit  and  vegetables  growing  in 
the  neat  farms  by  which  they  passed.  It  was  like  paradise. 

Driving  into  the  city,  which  was  only  a  huge  village, 
with  orchards  and  grain-fields  all  about,  they  were  directed 
to  an  open  square  where  emigrants  were  allowed  to  camp. 
Fresh  meat,  vegetables,  and  new  flour  were  to  be  had  here, 
and  in  these  unaccustomed  luxuries  the  boys  reveled  with 
great  delight.  It  seemed  as  if  they  were  near  their 
journey's  end.  The  mishaps,  discomforts,  and  perils 
through  which  they  had  passed,  seemed  far  away  now. 
Here  were  flower  gardens,  people  living  in  houses,  and 
here  were  families  abiding,  not  camping  out  for  a  night. 
The  tent  of  the  emigrants,  which  had  become  their  home, 
almost  beloved  as  such,  appeared  frail  and  shadowy  by 
the  side  of  these  substantial  and  comfortable  houses,  in 
which  people  actually  lived. 

"  We  must  get  up  and  dust  out  of  this.  I'm  homesick," 
was  Hi's  plaintive  remark. 

"  Lor!  "  said  Nance,  whose  family  was  on  the  spot  when 
they  drove  into  town.  "  Lor !  the  wimmen  is  orf  ul  ornery 
S:>  old-fashioned,  you  can't  think  1  Nothin'  but  sun-bun- 
nits  and  caliker  gownds.  I  ain't  seen  a  sunshade  since  I' 70 
bin  here.  Ugh  !  such  a  place.  I  want  to  git." 


160  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

The  boys  thought  that  they  never  could  "  git,"  whet 
they  woke  up  one  fine  morning,  and  found  their  cattle 
gone.  They  had  been  chained  to  the  wheels  of  the  wagon 
when  they  "  turned  in  "  to  sleep  the  night  before.  Mont 
had  waked  in  the  night  and  heard  Bally,  who  was  a  rest 
less  creature,  chafing  with  his  chain.  Now  they  were 
gone ! 

They  looked  in  blank  ai/iazement,  wondering  how  the 
thieves  could  have  taken  them  away  without  disturbing 
anybody.  It  was  useless  to  look  for  tracks.  The  turf  waa 
trodden  by  numerous  hoofs,  coming  and  going. 

"  Where's  that  rascal  Pete  that  he  didn't  bark?  If  there 
had  been  a  chipmunk  about  the  camp,  he'd  have  wakened 
up  everybody,"  stormed  Barnard,  with  great  anger. 

"  Sure  enough,  where's  Pete  ?  "  asked  Arthur.  He  was 
not  to  be  seen.  The  boy  whistled  for  his  old  friend,  but 
had  no  response.  Pete  had  disappeared. 

This  was  a  great  calamity,  and,  leaving  the  younger 
ones  to  get  breakfast  and  watch  the  camp,  Mont,  Hi,  and 
Barnard  went  out  to  look  for  the  stolen  cattle.  They 
came  back,  late  in  the  morning,  one  after  another,  without 
tidings.  Everybody  had  told  them  that  the  Mormons 
would  steal  the  tires  off  the  wagon- wheels ;  that  it  was 
more  dangerous  here  than  in  the  Indian  country ;  and  then, 
there  were  dreadful  rumors  of  emigrants — "  Gentiles,"  the 
Mormons  called  them — disappearing  suddenly  and  never 
being  heard  of  again.  If  strangers  made  trouble  about 
liuiiisf  robbed,  they  were  quietly  "  put  out  of  the  way," 
nobody  knew  how. 

The  boys  looked  at  the  useless  yokes,  left  piled  on  each 
other  by  the  wagon,  thought  of  their  stolen  cattle,  and  sat 
down  to  a  very  gloomy  breakfast.  Sympathizing  friendi 
and  acquaintances  from  neighboring  zamps  came  in  witk 


IN  MORMONDOM.  161 

offers  of  help,  but  they  could  not  give  up  all  hope  ol 
finding  their  own  again.  Arty  confessed  to  Kimself  that 
he  rather  enjoyed  the  celebrity  which  the  affair  gave  hia 
party,  though  he  was  not  pleased  when  some  rough 
stranger  laughed  at  "  the  youngsters  who  had  their  cattle 
stolen  from  under  their  blankets  while  they  slept."  And 
next  day,  after  they  had  spent  one  whole  day  in  hunting 
for  their  stock,  they  heard  that  another  party,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  city,  had  been  robbed  of  a  horse  and  three 
yoke  of  cattle. 

Mont  went  to  a  Mormon  justice  of  the  peace  and  stated 
his  case.  He  was  received  with  great  grimness,  and  a 
constable  was  sent  down  to  the  camp.  This  official  looked 
at  the  wagon,  tent,  and  camp-stove,  asked  if  they  had 
any  tea  to  sell,  and  went  away.  They  never  saw  him 
again. 

On  the  third  day,  Mont,  Hi,  and  Arthur  were  prowling 
about  on  the  outskirts  of  the  cit}r,  where  the  settlement 
melted  away  into  small  farms.  The  boy  had  strayed  away 
from  his  companions,  and  was  attracted  by  a  neat  little 
cottage  built  of  adobe,  or  sun-dried  brick.  The  roof  was 
of  thatch,  and  in  the  trim  door-yard  bloomed  marigolds, 
hollyhocks,  larkspur,  and  other  old-fashioned  flowers.  A 
cat  purred  in  the  sun,  and  a  flock  of  white-haired  children 
played  on  the  low  door-step. 

"  This  seems  like  home,"  murmured  the  po)r,  dispirited 
nnd  lonesome  boy. 

A  sad  looking,  sallow-faced  woman,  coming  to  the  door 
faid  :  "Would  you  like  to  come  in  among  the  posies,  my 
lad  ? " 

"No,  I  thank  you,  ma'am,"  civilly  replied  Aitlmr. 
"  Put  I  should  like  a  sprig  of  that  lavender,  if  you  cac 
spare  it." 


L 62  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

As  the  boy  spoke,  a  short,  sharp  bark,  strangely  like 
Pete's,  sounded  from  the  house.  He  heard  a  man's  voice, 
then  a  whine,  and,  as  the  woman  gave  him  the  spray  oi 
lavender,  a  low-browed,  dark-faced  man  put  his  head  out 
of  the  window,  and  said  : 

"  What  are  you  tolling  these  tramps  about  the  place  for  \ 
Get  out  of  here  1 " 

Two  more  sad-looking  and  sallow-faced  women  now  ap 
peared  in  the  door-way,  and  Arthur  walked  away,  half- 
angry,  but  murmuring  to  himself : 

"  That  man's  a  Mormon  !     Those  are  his  wives  ! " 

This  discovery  aroused  the  boy  from  his  gloomy 
thoughts,  and  his  curiosity  was  stirred  to  find  out  how  a 
man  with  at  least  three  wives  could  live.  Loitering  down 
a  lane  by  the  side  of  the  cottage,  he  passed  by  a  neat 
hedge  which  enclosed  a  paddock  behind  the  house.  He 
stooped  in  an  aimless  way  and  peered  through  an  opening 
in  the  bottom  of  the  hedge.  The  enclosure  was  about 
fifty  feet  long  and  twenty-five  wide.  The  upper  end  was 
bounded  by  a  paling  which  separated  the  Mormon's  gar 
den  from  the  paddock.  The  lower  end  opened,  by  a  pair 
of  bars,  covered  with  cut  boughs,  on  a  common  unenclosed 
space.  In  the  middle  of  this  cattle-yard,  quietly  chewing 
their  cuds,  were  eight  or  ten  cattle.  Among  them,  to  his 
amazement,  Arthur  recognized  Tige,  Molly,  Star,  and  his 
mate. 

Scarcely  believing  his  eyes,  A.rtj  looked  once  more,  and 
then  bounded  away  across  the  fields  and  over  the  ditches, 
to  find  Hi  and  Mont.  They  were  sitting  disconsolately  by 
some  wild  raspberry  bushes,  making  a  pcor  pretence  of 
picking  the  fruit,  when  Arty  rushed  up,  his  eyes  sparkling, 
his  face  all  in  a  glow,  and  his  breath  coming  and  goir.g 
fast. 


IN  MORMONDOlf  163 


"  What  luck  ?  "  exclaimed  Mont,  whose  quick  eye 
that  something  had  happened. 

"  Found  'em  !  —  found  'em  !  "  pai.ted  the  boy.  "  The  whole 
lot  are  together  in  that  corral  with  the  hedge  around  it!  " 

"  Gosh  all  Friday  !  "  said  Hi. 

The  three  boys  now  walked  rapidly  back  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  adobe  house,  which  was  about  a  mile  off,  but 
in  plain  sight.  Arriving  at  the  opening  in  the  rear  of  the 
paddock,  they  reconnoitered  through  the  brush  which  had 
been  ingeniously  twisted  into  the  bars,  so  that  the  hedge, 
from  the  outside,  seemed  continuous. 

"  There's  Tige,  and  Molly,  and  all  hands,"  whispered 
Hi,  with  glistening  eyes. 

"  AVe've  two  pistols  among  us.  Let's  march  boldly  in 
and  drive  them  out,"  said  Mont. 

Without  a  word,  Hi  tore  out  the  screen  of  boughs,  let 
down  the  bars,  and  strode  in.  Just  then,  the  back-door  of 
the  house  opened  and  the  dark-faced  man  appeared. 

"  Get  out  of  that  corral,  or  I'll  shoot  you  !  "  he  cried, 
and  he  raised  a  fowling-piece  to  his  shoulder  as  he 
spoke. 

"  Don't  be  afeard,  boys  ;  it  ain't  loaded  !  "  called  one  of 
the  sad-looking  women,  who  suddenly  came  around  the 
corner  of  the  house.  The  man  muttered  an  oath,  and  pur 
sued  her  as  she  disappeared  among  the  hollyhocks. 

The  boys  hastily  separated  their  cattle  from  the  rcst? 
and  drove  them  down  the  paddock.  Just  then,  the  man, 
who  had  run  around  the  hedge,  appeared  at  the  opening 
and  began  to  put  up  the  bars. 

"  Leave  those  cattle  alone,"  said  he,  savagely. 

"  They're  our  cattle,  and  we  are  goin'  to  take  'em,"  was 
Hi's  dogged  reply. 

The  man  went  on  putting  up  the  bars.     Then  Monl 


1 64  THE  BOY  EMIQ RA NTS. 

drew  his  pistol,  and,  pointing  it  directly  at  the  fellow'* 
head,  said : 

"  Put  down  those  bars,  or  I'll  shoot  you  1  Now  then  : 
One  !— two  !— three  !  " 

The  man  turned  and  fled. 

Arty  ran  down,  dropped  the  bars,  and  the  cattle  passed 
out.  The  opening  was  closed  behind  them,  and  the  little 
party,  triumphant,  but  not  without  fears,  took  their  way 
back  to  town.  They  were  received  at  the  camp  with  great 
acclamations,  Barnard  having  returned  in  the  worst  possi 
ble  spirits.  The  neighboring  emigrants  gathered  in  to 
congratulate  them  on  their  good  luck,  as  well  as  their  pluck. 

"But  suppose  that  chap  takes  it  into  his  head  to  come 
down  on  us  with  legal  documents,  constables  and  things  ! " 
said  Barnard. 

Captain  John  Rose  took  up  his  favorite  rifle,  which  was 
lying  in  the  sun,  and  remarked: 

"  If  thar's  Mormons  enough  in  this  yere  city  to  capture 
the  gang  of  Gentiles  lyin'  around  loose  in  this  yere  square, 
let  'em  come  on.  No  better  fun  than  that  fur  me  !  " 

As  a  matter  of  precaution,  however,  it  was  thought  best 
to  get  out  of  town  as  soon  as  possible.  The  few  necessary 
purchases  had  been  made.  Letters  were  written  home ; 
and,  yoking  up  their  recovered  team,  they  hastily  departed 
out  of  the  city. 

The  affair  had  been  noised  about,  and  several  Mormons 
came  around  them  as  they  drove  away,  threatening  dread 
ful  things.  The  dark-faced  man  did  not  appear.  "  If  ho 
wants  his  property,  let  him  come  and  take  it,"  said  Hi. 
Strange  to  say,  he  did  not  come.  The  emigrants  were 
numerous,  lawless,  and  angry. 

The  boys  drove  out  to  the  north  and  west,  their  road 
leading  them  by  a  cluster  of  boiling  hot-springs,  across  the 


IJS  MORMONDOM.  165 

Weber,  and  so  on  to  Box  Elder.  The  first  part  of  their 
way  was  through  broad  fields  thick  with  grass  and  yellow 
with  wild  flowers.  Across  these  they  saw  the  City  of  the 
Saints,  now  no  longer  attractive,  recede  as  they  drove 
away.  Something  came  bounding  towards  them  across  the 
grassy  plain,  now  lost  in  the  tall  growth,  and  now  spring 
ing  into  the  streams  which  laced  the  plain.  It  seemed  an 
animal,  and  yet  it  appeared  like  a  man  running  on  all 
fours  with  marvellous  swiftness.  It  came  from  the  direc 
tion  of  an  adobe  house  on  the  edge  of  the  city,  in  the 
midst  of  the  fields.  As  it  leaped  nearer  and  nearer,  it 
gave  a  joyful  bark. 

"  It's  Pete  !  it's  Pete ! "  cried  Arthur,  and  his  tears  must 
needs  flow.  In  another  instant,  Pete,  with  a  ragged  rope 
about  his  neck,  was  in  Arty's  arms,  on  Hi's  back,  on  Bar 
nard's  neck,  and  knocking  little  Johnny  over  in  his  par 
oxysm  of  delight. 

"  Whar  hev  yer  b'en,  ole  feller  ? "  asked  Hi.  "  What  a 
powerful  shame  it  is  that  yer  can't  talk  !  " 

"  I  just  believe  that  the  man  who  stole  the  cattle  took 
Pete  away,"  said  Arthur.  "  I  was  sure  I  heard  him  in 
that  house.  He  heard  me  outside  talking  with  the  woman, 
and  he  barked." 

"  But  how  could  he  get  Pete  away  without  poisoning 
him  ?  "  demanded  Mont. 

"Drugged  him,"  suggested  Hi. 

"  There's  that  knowing  old  Tige,"  said  Arthur,  play 
fully.  "  He  looks  around  as  if  he  could  tell  all  about  it." 

Bat  he  never  did. 


THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A     GREAT    DISASTER. 

AFTES.  Xenving  Salt  Lake  Valley,  the  young  emigrant! 
parsed  into  a  wild,  desolate,  and  barren  region.  Imme 
diately  outside  of  the  Mormon  settlements,  they  found  a 
most  miserable  country.  The  surface  of  the  earth  was 
red  and  dusty — "  red  hot,"  Hi  said.  No  grass  grew  ex 
cept  in  small  dry  bunches,  and  the  pools  of  water  were 
thick  and  brown  with  alkali,  or  they  were  boiling  hot 
with  hidden  fires.  Some  of  them  rushed  out  of  their 
fountains  with  a  hurrying  and  hissing  noise  that  reminded 
the  boys  of  a  steamboat.  Others  were  bluish  pools  of 
water,  with  clean  and  pebbly  bottoms,  and  just  warm 
enough  to  be  comfortable  for  a  bath.  Into  these  the 
weary  and  dusty  travelers  plunged  themselves  with  great 
content.  The  waters  seemed  to  be  healing,  they  were  so 
soft  and  pleasant  to  joints  stiffened  by  long  marches,  and 
to  skins  made  rough  and  sore  by  many  days  of  travel  on 
alkali  plains.  The  air  was  still  loaded  with  the  alkali 
duet,  like  fine  saleratus,  which  floated  everywhere.  But 
(he  natural  hot-baths,  steel  blue  in  their  depths  and  gur- 
pliujr  over  stones  covered  with  some  kind  of  white  mineral 

r3          O 

deposit,  were  luxurious  beyond  anything  they  had  ever 
di  earned  of. 

Some  of  these  hot  springs  were  so  near  the  cold  ones, 
that  the  boys  tried  experiments  of  dipping  their  hand* 


A  GREAT  DISASTER.  1G7 

into  a  pool  of  cold  water  while  their  feet  dabbled  in  warm 
water,  as  they  lay  along  the  ground.  Once  they  came  to 
a  huge  round  pool,  nearly  fifty  feet  across,  black,  still,  and 
with  neither  outlet  nor  inlet.  Yet  it  was  not  stagnant ;  a 
slight  current  showed  that  there  was  some  sort  of  rnovo- 
inent  going  on  beneath  the  surface. 

"  I  allow  this  yer  pool  runs  down  inter  tho  bowels  of  the 
yeaith,"  said  Philo  Dobbs,  pensively,  as  he  stood  on  the 
brink  and  gazed  into  the  mysterious  depths. 

"  Well,  ain't  the  bowels  of  the  earth  deep  enough  to 
take  down  this  hull  pool  at  one  s waller,  if  so  be  as  it 
runs  down  so  .fur  ? "  asked  Bush,  with  some  impatience. 
"  Stands  to  reason  it  would  be  all  drawed  off  to  oncet,  if 
the  bottom  was  clean  dropped  out." 

"  Anyway,  there  is  no  bottom,"  said  Arty.  "  Lots  of 
people  have  sounded  it  and  found  none." 

But  Philo  Dobbs  was  firm  in  his  opinion  that  the  poo 
led  directly  into  the  centre  of  the  earth;  and  Nance,  as  ;t 
dutiful  daughter,  informed  the  boys  that  what  her  father 
did  not  know  about  such  things  was  not  worth  knowing. 

They  passed  out  from  this  region  of  wonders  and  tra 
versed  an  exceedingly  dull  and  uninteresting  tract  of 
country,  lying  between  Salt  Lake  Valley  and  the  head 
waters  of  the  Humboldt  Kiver. 

About  three  weeks'  march  from  the  Mormon  capital, 
late  in  August,  they  reached  the  Goose  Creek  Mountains. 
Here  good  pasturage  was  found  by  selecting  spots  along 
the  creek,  and  here,  too,  the  road  became  more  easy  for 
the  cattle,  many  of  which  were  weak  and  sick  with  th? 
tsfteets  of  alkali.  Passing  down  through  Thousand  Spring 
Valley,  the  emigiants  camped  at  the  head  of  a  rocky 
canon,  one  night,  twj  or  three  companies  being  together 
The  ground  was  dotted  with  scrubby  knots  of  wild  oage, 


J  68  THE  BO  7  EMIGRANTS, 

grease- weed,  and  cactus.  The  soil  was  red,  gray,  and 
pebbly ;  but  a  small  stream  slipped  through  a  gulley  near 
by,  and  along  its  banks  grew  a  scanty  crop  of  grass,  well 
browsed  off  by  the  innumerable  cattle  which  had  passed 
on  the  way  to  California. 

"  This  is  awful  lonesome,"  sighed  Arty,  as  he  wearily 
went  through  the  usual  and  monotonous  task  of  getting 
supper. 

"  Doesn't  pay,  does  it,  Arty  ? "  said  his  brother,  curiously 
watching  the  boy,  with  half-closed  eyes,  as  he  turned  hia 
sizzling  bacon  in  the  frying-pan,  and  kept  his  fire  going 
with  handfuls  of  dry  weeds,  their  only  fuel. 

"  No,  Crogan,  it  does  not  pay.  I'm  getting  clean  beat 
out.  And  there's  poor  old  Pete,  licking  his  paws  again. 
I  can't  keep  shoes  on  that  dog's  feet,  and  he  has  worn  tho 
skin  off  of  them  so  that  he  can  hardly  walk.  Heigho !  I 
wonder  what  mother  would  say  to  this  mess  ? " — and  Arty, 
with  great  disgust,  stirred  in  the  flour  which  was  to  thicken 
the  bacon-fat  and  make  "dope"  to  eat  with  bread, instead 
of  butter. 

The  thought  of  what  his  mother  might  say  brought  tears 
to  the  boy's  eyes.  This  was  Saturday  night.  Away  off  in 
the  groves  of  the  valley  of  the  Rock  his  mother  was  draw 
ing  the  Ne\r  England  brown  bread  and  beans  from  the 
brick  oven.  His  father,  perhaps,  was  sitting  by  the  fading 
light  in  the  door- way,  looking  westward  and  thinking  of 
liis  wandering  boys.  His  brothers  were  out  at  the  well- 
curb,  dipping  their  heads  into  the  water-trough  with  muck 
i  ough  play,  and  making  ready  for  their  welcome  Sunday 
rest 

Here  was  a  wilderness,  a  desert,  scanty  fare,  and  with 
the  Land  of  Gold  still  a  long  way  off. 

"  Hullo !  there's  a  drop  of  salt  water  running  down  yc  ur 


A  GREAT  DISASTER.  1G9 

nose,  A  rty,"  cried  Tom,  "  and  if  it  drops  into  that  dope, 
you'll—" 

But  Tom  never  finished  nis  sentence,  for  at  that  moment 
Mont,  with  righteous  indignation,  knocked  him  off  the  rol) 
of  blankets  on  which  he  had  been  sitting. 

"  Yer  might  let  a  feller  know  when  you  was  a-comm' 
for  him,"  said  Tom,  wrathf  ully,  as  he  scrambled  cut  of 
the  way. 

"  Sarved  yer  right,  yer  grinnin'  chessie-cat,"  said  Hi. 
"  Yer'll  never  keep  yer  mouth  shut.  Now  hustle  that  thar 
coffee-pot  onto  the  table,  and  we'll  sit  by." 

"  Tom,  I  beg  yer  pardon,"  spoke  up  Mont  Morse.  "  I 
really  didn't  intend  to  knock  you  over,  only  just  to  give 
you  a  gentle  poke  by  way  o^  reminder." 

Tom  sullenly  ate  his  supper,  without  any  comment  on 
his  brother's  remark  that  he  was  an  "  ornery  blatherskite, 
anyway." 

Somehow,  the  evening  was  more  gloomy  and  cheerless 
than  usual ;  and,  as  it  was  now  necessary  to  keep  a  sharp 
watch  for  thieves  who  were  prowling  about  the  trail,  those 
who  were  to  go  out  on  the  second  watch  went  early  to  their 
blankets.  The  rest  took  their  several  stations  about  the 
edge  of  the  camp. 

It  was  a  little  past  midnight  when  the  sleeping  boys 
were  awakened  by  a  shot,  and  the  voice  of  John  Rose 
crying,  "  Stop  that  man  !  " 

Barnard  broke  out  of  the  tent  with  a  wild  rush,  cocking 
his  pistol  as  he  ran  through  the  low  brush  in  which  the  camp 
was  get.  In  the  cloudy  night  he  saw  a  light  sorrel  horse 
running  close  bj*  the  side  of  Old  Jim,  and  coming  towards 
him.  As  the  horses  passed  swiftly  across  his  vision,  ho 
saw  a  man  rise  and  fall,  and  rise  and  fall  aga'n  in  llie 
8»ge-brush — rise  and  fall  and  disappear  in  the  darkness. 


1 70  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

f  in  suing  him  was  John  Rose,  his  tall  figure  and  bright 
red  shirt  showing  him  conspicuously  in  the  gloom. 
Barney  ran  on,  but  the  fugitive  was  gone,  and  Rose  camo 
back,  excitedly  saying: 

"Dog  on  that  chap  !  I  just  believe  I  winged  him.  D:d 
you  see  him  limp  ? " 

Barney  was  not  sure  that  he  limped,  but  was  burning  tc 
know  what  it  was  all  about. 

"I  was  sittin'  behind  that  thar  rock,"  said  Rose,  "  a- won 
dering  about  them  stars  just  peek  in'  out  of  the  clouds, 
when  I  heern  a  cracklin'  in  the  bush  and  if  thar  wa'n't  a 
yaller  hoss — a  strange  hoss — sidlin'  up,  queer-like,  as  if 
somebody  was  leadiu'  him.  I  seen  no  man,  no  lariat  onto 
the  hoss,  M'hen  he  gets  up  alongside  of  Old  Jim.  Then 
he  stops  short,  and  then  I  seen  a  man's  legs  on  the  off-side, 
and  Justin  range  of  the  sorrel's.  I  slid  down  from  behind 
the  rock  and  crep'  along  on  the  ground  like,  holding  my 
rifle  steady,  when,  all  at  once,  the  chap  jumps  up  on  the 
m-rel  and  away  lie  kited  pullin'  Old  Jim  after  him." 

"  Yes !  yes  !  and  you  fired  then  ?  " 

"  Fired  !  Well,  1  just  allow  I  did,  and  you  should  have 
seen  that  chap  drop,  But  he  got  away,  and  we  have  got 
his  hoss — that's  all." 

Sine  enough,  the  sorrel  horse  was  found  to  have  a  lariat, 
or  halter,  of  twisted  raw-hide  about  his  neck,  one  end  of 
which  had  been  knotted  into  Jim's  halter.  There  waf 
great  excitement  in  the  camp  as  the  emigrants  woke  ana 
came  out  to  see  "what  was  up."  Here  was  the  evidence 
of  horse  thieves  being  about,  and  the  men  expressed  them 
selves  as  being  in  favor  of  hanging  the  rascal — if  he  could 
be  caught. 

"  Ouch  !  "  cried  Barney  suddenly,  sitting  down.  "  Bring 
a  light,  Johnny." 


A  OREA1  DISASTER.  tf\ 

Barney's  bare  feet  were  filled  with  the  prickly  spines  of 
tlie  ground  cactus. 

"  Strange  I  never  folt  them  until  just  now,  and  I  must 
have  clipped  it  through  that  whole  bed  of  cactus  plants*" 
But  he  felt  them  now,  and,  what  was  more,  he  was  lame 
for  a  week  afterwards. 

Next  morning,  on  examining  the  ground,  the  boys  dis 
covered  the  tracks  of  the  strange  horse,  where,  coming  up 
to  the  regular  trail  from  the  north,  they  crossed  a  damp 
patch  of  alkali  earth,  breaking  in  the  crust  which  forma 
on  top  when  the  heat  of  the  sun  evaporates  the  alkali 
water.  Nearer  the  camps,  the  tracks  were  lost  in  the  con 
fused  beating  of  the  feet  of  many  passing  animals.  But 
in  the  sage-brush,  where  Captain  Rose  had  fired  at  the 
horse-thief,  the  foot-prints  were  plainly  seen. 

In  the  loose  sandy  soil  beyond  were  the  tracks  of  a  man, 
left  in  the  dry  surface ;  and  on  the  twigs  of  a  low  grease- 
wood  bush  they  saw  a  few  drops  of  blood. 

"  Yes,  yes,  he  was  wounded.  I  was  sure  of  that,"  cried 
Rose. 

"  And  here  is  where  he  limped,"  said  Hi,  dropping  on 
his  knees  and  examining  the  foot-prints  in  the  light  gray 
soil.  "  Come  yere,  Mont,  and  tell  us  what  you  think  of 
these  yere.  See !  thar's  a  print  set  squar'  down  ;  then 
here's  one  that's  only  light-like,  just  half  made." 

Mont  got  down  on  his  knees  and  followed  the  tracks 
along.  The  man  had  fled  in  great  haste.  Sometimes  he 
had  gone  over  the  bushes,  sometimes  he  had  light  jd  in  the 
midst  of  one.  But,  here  and  there,  was  a  print,  sometimes 
of  the  right  foot,  sometimes  of  the  left;  but  one  was 
always  lightly  made — "  half -made,"  as  Hi  said. 

"  That  man  limped,  sure  enough,"  said  Mont,  finally, 
"  But  I  guess  ho  didn't  limp  from  a  wound,  though  h« 


172 


THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


may  have  been  wounded.     I  should  say  that  he  had  i 
game  leg." 

r  A  game  leg  ! "  repeated  Johnny  and  Arty  together. 


BILL    BUNCE. 


"I  allow  you're  right,  Monty,  my  boy,"  said  Hi, who 
bad  been  stooping  again  over  the  mysterious  foot- prints 
"  That  thar  man  had  a  game  leg,  for  sure." 


A  GREAT  DISASTER.  173 

"Which  leg  was  Bill  Bunce  laine  of,  Johnny?"  de 
manded  Barnard. 

"  The  left  leg,"  replied  the  lad. 

Arty  looked  up  triumphantly  from  the  ground  and  ex 
claimed  : 

"  So  was  this  man  that  tried  to  steal  Old  Jim." 

"  It  was  Bill  Bunco  !  It  was  Bill  Bunce  !  I'm  sure  it 
was,"  cried  little  Johnny,  in  great  excitement. 

He  looked  at  the  foot-prints  of  the  fugitive  horse-thief, 
and  fairly  trembled  with  apprehension  ;  he  could  not  have 
told  why. 

"  O  !  sho  ! "  said  Hi.  "  You  mustn't  think  that  every 
game-legged  man  you  meet  on  the  plains  is  Bill  Bunce. 
Why,  thar  was  that  feller  that  picked  up  Barney's  boots 
when  they  fell  out  of  the  wagon,  down  at  Pilot  Springs. 
lie  wa'n't  no  Bill  Bunce,  and  he  was  the  game-leggedest 
man  I  ever  seen." 

"  If  he  had  not  been  too  game-legged  to  wear  those 
boots,  I  am  not  so  sure  that  Crogan  would  have  seen  them 
again,"  laughed  Mont. 

"  Well,  boys,  thar's  nothin'  more  to  be  1'arned  of  them 
foot-prints,"  said  Hi.  "  We  may  as  well  get  breakfast  and 
be  off." 

"  But  this  is  Sunday,"  said  Barnard. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Hi,  "  Sunday  and  no  feed,  and  nu 
water.  Camp  here  all  day  and  starve  the  critters  ?  lu>t 
much." 

"  But  we  have  never  traveled  Sundays,"  remonstrated 
Mont. 

"  Oh  yes,  we  did,  Mont,"  interposed  Arty.  "  Once  befor^ 
at  Stony  Point,  you  know  we  had  to  when  there  was  ini 
grass ;  and  we  traveled  from  the  Salt  Lick  to  Deep  Creek 
on  Sunday,  because  we  hai  no  water." 


174  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

"Which  is  the  Christianest,  Mont, — to  let  the  cattle  gc 
without  feed,  or  travel  Sunday  ? "  asked  Hi. 

"  I  don't  know.     I  give  up  that  conundrum." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Hi,  with  a  grin. 

They  went  on,  however.  Leaving  Thousand  Spring 
Valley,  and  crossing  several  rocky  ridges,  they  descended 
and  entered  a  long,  narrow  canon,  through  which  flowed 
a  considerable  stream. 

Precipitous  walls  of  rock  rose  up  on  either  side,  leaving 
barely  room  for  the  narrow  wagon-trail  and  the  creek. 
The  trail  crossed  and  recrossed  the  stream  many  times, 
and  the  ford  ing-places  were  not  all  safe  or  convenient. 
But  the  day  was  bright  and  pleasant,  and  high,  high  above 
their  heads,  above  the  beetling  crags,  the  blue  sky  looked 
cool  and  tender. 

A  long  train  passed  down  the  cafion,  the  procession 
being  strung  out  with  numerous  companies  of  emigrants. 
They  had  got  half-way  through  the  passage,  which  was 
several  miles  long,  when,  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  sky 
grew  overcast,  and  thick  clouds  gathered  suddenly  in  the 
west. 

"  An  awkward  place  to  get  caught  in  a  shower,"  mut 
tered  Captain  Wise.  "  Tliar's  poor  crossing  at  the  best  of 
times,  and  if  this  yere  creek  should  rise,  we  'd  be  cut  off 
in  the  midst  of  the  canon." 

"  But  there  is  no  danger  of  that,  John,  is  there  ?  "  said 
Mont,  who  was  striding  along  with  the  Captain. 

"  Couldn't  eay,  Mont.  These  yere  creeks  do  swell  up 
dreffle  sudd'n,  sometimes."  And  he  anxiously  regar  led 
the  sky,  from  which  a  heavy  shower  now  oegan  to  fall. 

The  boys  lightly  laughed  at  the  discomfort.  They  were 
used  to  it,  and,  wrapping  their  heavy  coats  about  theii 
shoulders,  they  plodded  on  in  the  pouring  rain. 


A  0 HEAT  DISASTER.  175 

it  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  tne  showfj 
increased  with  such  force  that  Hi,  who  was  behind  with 
the  team,  shouted  to  Captain  Wise : 

"  Say,  hadn't  we  better  lay  by  2  Yere's  a  place  whar 
we  can  turn  in  and  let  the  others  pass  us." 

"  The  cattle's  necks  are  gettin'  chafed  with  their  yokes," 
cried  Tom,  who  particularly  disliked  getting  wet. 

"  We  must  drive  on  until  we  're  out  of  this  yere  canon," 
was  the  Captain's  only  reply. 

And  they  pressed  on  in  the  midst  of  a  tempest  of  rain. 
The  sky  overhead  was  only  a  narrow  patch  between  the 
frowning  walls  of  the  canon.  It  was  as  black  as  ink. 

They  had  now  reached  a  sharp  bend  in  the  canon ;  a 
huge  elbow  in  the  rocky  precipice  at  the  left  of  the  track 
came  down  and  made  a  deep  recess  just  beyond  it,  where 
the  trail  turned  in  to  the  left.  On  their  right  was  the 
creek,  now  foaming  along  in  its  stony  bed,  and  on  the 
opposite  side  was  a  sheer  wall  of  rock  rising  into  the  low- 
hung  clouds. 

As  they  struggled  around  the  corner  of  the  rock  and 
entered  a  little  elevated  place,  where  the  canon  widened, 
the  tall  angle  behind  them  shut  out  the  trail  down  which 
they  had  j  ust  passed.  Arthur,  hearing  a  strange  u  birring 
noise  in  the  air,  looked  back  and  up  the  canon.  He  saw 
an  inky  black  mass,  tremendous  and  tumbling  over  and 
over,  drift  helplessly  over  the  wall  of  the  canon,  like  a 
huge  balloon.  It  struck  the  opposite  wall,  and  in  ail 
instant  the  solid  ro:;k  seemed  to  burst  in  cataracts  of 
water. 

Suddenly,  the  air  was  filled  with  a  portentous  roar. 
The  rain  no  longer  fell  in  sheets,  but  in  solid  masses.  The 
creek,  black  except  where  it  was  lashed  into  foam,  ro?a 
like  a  mightj  river  and  tore  down  the  canon,  hoarsery 


176  THE  BO  I  EMIGRANTS. 

howling  an  its  waj.  The  sides  of  the  naivow  pass  seemed 
to  melt  iutc  dropping  streams  of  water.  The  trail  dis 
appeared,  and  along  the  foaming  tide  rushed  wagons, 
horses,  oxen,  men,  and  the  floating  wrecks  of  trains  which 
had  been  farther  up  the  canon. 

The  angry  flood,  checked  by  the  sharp  angle  of  rock 
around  which  the  boys  had  just  passed,  roared  in  a  solid 
wall  over  that  part  of  the  trail,  then  spread  out  and  curled 
hissing,  up  to  the  little  eminence  on  which  the  party,  with 
scared  faces,  stood  as  if  spell-bound.  The  loose  cattle  of 
the  Rose  drove  were  in  the  rear.  They  were  swept  off 
like  insects.  Then  the  flood,  as  if  holding  on  by  its  claws 
at  the  rocky  angle  behind,  backed  up  and  backed  up,  un 
til,  with  one  mighty  effort,  it  swept  the  wagon-bodies  off 
their  beds,  overturned  the  cattle  in  their  yokes,  and  then 
slunk  off  down  the  canon,  and  slowly  fell  away. 

Captain  Rose,  climbing  a  wrecked  wagon,  in  the  midst 
of  the  still  falling  rain,  looked  about  anxiously,  gave  a 
great  sob,  and  said : 

"  I'm  a  ruined  man  ;  but,  thank  God,  we're  all  here  ! " 

The  angry  current  yet  fled  down  the  canon,  making  the 
trail  impassable.  But  the  worst  was  over.  They  were 
all  alive.  Even  Pete,  to  whom  Arty  had  clung  in  the 
extremity  of  his  terror,  was  safe  and  sound.  All  were 
drenched,  and  it  was  only  by  clinging  to  the  half-floating 
wagons  that  they  had  been  saved  from  drowning.  But  tho 
yoke  cattle  were  here.  So  was  poor  old  Jim,  and  a  few 
of  Rose's  loose  cattle,  as  well  as  his  horses. 

"  What  was  that  ? "  asked  Tom,  his  teeth  chattering 
with  fear  and  cold. 

"  A  cloud-burst,"  said  Mont,  solemnly.  "  And  it  will 
be  a  wonderful  thing  if  hundreds  of  pec  pie  in  this  canon 
are  not  drowned  by  it." 


A  GREAT  DISASTER.  1 ;  7 

More  than  an  hour  passed  before  the  creek  had  fallen 
enough  to  permit  the  emigrants  to  pass  down  the  trail. 
But  the  canon  was  free  of  the  flood  in  an  astonishingly 
short  time.  Before  dark,  the  little  party,  gathering  up 
their  wet  goods  and  straightening  out  their  teams,  ven 
tured  down  the  trail. 

The  alders  were  crowded  with  fragments  of  wreck. 
Wagon- covers,  clothing,  and  bits  of  small  household  stuff, 
were  hanging  from  rocks  and  brush.  The  trail  was  washed 
out  by  the  flood,  and  along  it  were  strewn  the  bodies  of 
drowned  animals.  For  the  most  part,  however,  the  wrecks 
had  been  swept  clean  out  of  the  canon,  and  were  now 
lying  on  the  sandy  plain  beyond. 

Nobody  ever  knew  how  many  lives  were  lost  in  that 
memorable  cloud-burst.  They  were  many.  The  boy  emi 
grants  passed  out  and  camped  on  the  fast-drying  plain  at 
the  mouth  of  the  canon,  where  they  found  Philo  Dobbs, 
his  wife,  and  Nance.  They,  with  Messer,  had  laid  by 
outside  before  the  storm  canie  up,  having  been  one  day'a 
travel  ahead  of  our  boys. 

Rose  had  lost  sixty  head  of  cattle,  a  few  of  those  first 
missing  having  been  picked  up  afterwards. 

"  "Where's  yer  yaller  hoss  ? "  asked  Hi  of  Barney. 

The  sorrel  horse  was  gone. 

"  Light  come,  light  go,"  said  Hi,  eententioualy. 
8* 


1 7 8  TEE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

IN   THE  DESEKT. 

IT  was  early  in  September  when  the  young  emigrants 
reached  the  head-waters  of  the  Humboldt.  Here  the 
road  led  by  the  side  of  the  stream,  which  flowed  through 
a  narrow  valley.  Outside  of  this  valley  the  country  was 
a  tumultuous  mass  of  rocks,  mountains,  and  sand.  No 
tree  nor  shrub  relieved  the  prospect  anywhere.  It  was  an 
utterly  desolate  and  trackless  desert.  Close  by  the  stream, 
whose  bluish-white  waters  were  shaded  by  willows,  there 
was  a  plenty  of  grass,  and  the  water  was  at  least  fit  to 
drink.  So  the  party  journeyed  on  blithely,  forgetful  of 
the  dangers  behind,  and  careless  of  the  privations  before 
or  behind  them. 

Occasionally  the  road  left  the  river  and  crossed  over  a 
rough  ridge  of  hills,  for  ten  or  twelve  miles,  and  then, 
having  made  a  straight  line  across  a  curve  of  the  stream, 
struck  it  again  farther  down.  But,  after  about  two  weeks 
of  travel,  with  some  days  of  rest,  orders  went  out  to  cut 
grass  for  the  long  stretch  of  desert  which  was  now  to  bo 
traversed.  Knives  of  all  sorts  were  brought  out  and 
sharpened,  and  the  emigrants  spent  one  afternoon  in  cut 
ting  and  binding  up  the  lush,  coarse  grass  which  grew 
plentifully  in  the  meadows.  Not  far  from  this  point  the 
Humboldt  spreads  out  in  a  boggy  lake,  overgrown  with 
reeds  and  bulrushes,  and  is  lost  in  the  desert.  About  the 


Iff  THE!  DESEttT.  179 

edges  of  this  strange  swamp  the  whole  surface  of  the 
earth  is  dry  and  parched.  The  spreading  riv<!r  seems 
discouraged  by  the  barren  waste  before  it,  and  it  sinks 
away  in  the  sands  and  is  gone. 

"  This  everlasting  sage-brush  I  "  murmured  Arty,  as  the 
party  left  the  verdure  of  the  Humboldt  meadows  and 
struck  once  more  into  the  arid  plain,  where  the  only  vege 
tation  was  the  yellow-brown  sage-brush  or  the  whity- 
yellow  grease-weed.  "  This  everlasting  sage-brush  I  How 
sick  I  am  of  itl" 

"  Oh,  well,  don't  speak  ill  of  the  sage-brush,  Arty,"  said 
Mont,  pleasantly.  "  Besides,  it  is  called  artemisia,  which 
is  a  much  nicer  name  ;  and  if  it  was  not  for  the  artemisia, 
otherwise  sage-brush,  I  don't  know  what  you  would  do  for 
fuel." 

"  That's  so,  Mont,"  added  Hi.  "And  though  I  don't 
know  much  about  your  arty-what-d'ye-call-it,  I  allow  it's 
put  here  for  some  good  end.  See,  that  thar  sage-stalk  is 
nigh  as  thick  as  my  leg,  and  good  fire-wood  it  is.  Howso 
ever  it  gets  to  grow  in  this  sand  gets  me,  I  must  say.  Still 
I  shall  be  glad  when  we  are  shut  of  it.  Hit's  a  sure  sign 
of  desert  wherever  it  grows. 

It  was  an  abominable  country.  The  face  of  the  earth 
was  undulating,  but  gradually  rising  as  the  trail  ran  west 
ward,  and  was  covered  with  loose  black,  yellow,  and  red 
bowlders,  and  split  masses  of  rock.  The  wagon-trail  was 
almost  knee-deep  with  dust,  and  was  sprinkled  with  broken 
atones,  over  which  the  wagons  jolted  dismally.  Beyond. 
P.S  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and  disappearing  over  the 
swales  of  the  surface,  stretched  a  long,  long  line  of  earns, 
over  which  a  pillar  of  dust  continually  rose  into  the  hot 
air.  The  sun  poured  down  its  fiercest  beams,  and  the  far- 
off  hills  to  the  north  looked  as  if  they  were  calcined  by 


180  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

the  terrible  heat,  and  ashes  seemed  to  cover  their  glowing 
sides. 

After  a  long  and  weary  tramp,  the  boys  reached  Ante 
lope  Springs,  a  place  whose  name  had  such  a  pleasant 
sound  to  them,  that  they  had  longed  for  it  very  much,  it 
was  a  bitter  disappointment.  Hundreds  of  teams  were 
already  there  before  them,  and  the  two  feeble  little  springs 
which  had  gushed  out  from  under  a  ledge  of  rocks  in  this 
dryness,  were  trampled  and  choked  with  mud.  The  water 
which  trickled  down  from  these  pools  was  not  fit  to  drink; 
even  the  suffering  cattle  would  not  touch  it.  After  waiting 
several  hours,  and  taking  up  a  spoonful  of  water  at  a 
time,  the  boys  secured  enough  to  make  some  coffee — the 
first  nourishment  they  had  had  since  morning ;  and  it  waa 
now  nearly  sundown. 

Rabbit-hole  Springs,  twenty  miles  off,  must  be  reached 
before  any  water  for  the  cattle  and  horses  could  be  found. 
It  was  a  day's  drive,  in  the  best  of  times.  Now  they  must 
make  it  in  one  night. 

The  poor  animals,  hungry  and  thirst}7,  could  hardly 
drag  the  wagons  over  the  rough  roads ;  and  the  boys,  faint, 
foot-sore  and  sleepy,  stumbled  along  in  the  dark,  ready  to 
fall  down  and  sleep  forever  in  the  rocky  way.  As  the 
night  wore  on  the  air  grew  cool,  and  they  toiled  up  and 
down  the  steep  ridges  with  some  sense  of  relief. 

During  the  night,  while  sweeping  down  a  mountain- 
Bide,  the  party  suddenly  blundered  into  the  midst  of  the 
encampment  of  a  large  company  of  emigrants.  These 
people  were  evidently  tired  out  with  their  march  ;  not  one 
of  them  was  to  be  seen.  Their  cattle  were  scattered 
about  in  all  directions,  and  their  tents  were  silent  as  the 
grave.  Into  this  tranquil  settlement  suddenly  burst  the 
train  of  the  Hoses,  the  young  emigrants,  and  several  others 


IN  THE  DESERT.  181 

who  had  "  bunched  "  together  while  crossing  the  desert. 
In  a  twinkling,  the  loose  animals  rushed  to  the  right  and 
left  among  the  tents  and  wagons,  startled  by  the  unex 
pected  sight,  or  searching  for  something  to  eat. 

The  confusion  was  instant  and  dire.  Men  rushed  out 
of  their  tents,  or  from  under  their  wagons,  half -dressed  and 
panic-stricken.  Their  alarm  changed  to  rage  when  they 
saw  the  cause  of  the  midnight  invasion ;  and  they  tried 
in  vain  to  stop  the  bewildered  cattle,  who  charged  on  the 
tents,  tore  down  the  canvas,  and  hungrily  grabbed  at  any 
thing  eatable  and  in  reach.  Old  Jim  snatched  a  huge 
bundle  of  grass  in  his  teeth,  and  bore  it  off  triumphantly, 
never  heeding  the  stones  and  yells  flung  after  him. 

Men  shouted,  women  screamed,  children  bawled,  dogs 
barked,  and  cattle  bellowed.  The  surprise  was  complete, 
and  the  stampede  perfect.  It  took  a  long  time  to  straighten 
out  the  trains,  separate  the  cattle,  and  pacify  the  stran 
gers,  who  returned  to  their  dismantled  tents  in  a  very 
unhappy  frame  of  mind. 

"  Shouldn't  hev  camped  right  on  the  trail  if  ye  didn't 
want  to  git  up  and  dust  in  the  middle  of  the  night,"  was 
•Bush's  remark  as  he  collected  his  small  equipage  of  cow 
and  cart  and  went  swinging  down  into  the  valley,  with  as 
much  self-complacency  as  if  he  had  commanded  the  whole 
train. 

The  night  grew  cooler,  and  when  the  caravan  reached 
the  long,  sandy  plain  which  now  stretched  out  towards 
llabbit-hole  Springs,  Arty  wrapped  his  blanket  about  his 
shoulders  and  journeyed  out  into  the  mysterious  star- 
lighted  waste,  accompanied  only  by  his  faithful  Pete. 
The  road  was  heavy  with  loose  sand,  but  not  difficult  to 
walk  in,  and  the  boy  soon  passed  out  of  all  sight  and  hear 
ing  of  the  teams  behind  him.  He  was  alone  in  a  pea  of 


182  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Band,  the  dog  keeping  close  behind  at  his  heels.  The  sky 
spangled  with  stars,  bent  over  him,  and  far  off  the  dim 
horizon  shaded  away  into  the  gloom  of  the  distant  hills. 
Arthur  fancied  himself  a  lost  traveler,  far  from  huma?) 
habitation  or  human  trace,  and  he  pressed  on  against  the 
rising  breeze  with  a  keen  sense  of  the  novel  loneliness  of 
his  condition.  The  cries  of  the  ox-drivers  and  the  crush 
of  wheels  had  died  away  in  the  distance,  and  only  when 
Pete,  terrified  at  the  unearthy  stillness,  came  up  from  be 
hind,  whined  for  a  word  of  recognition  and  dropped  back 
to  his  place,  did  the  lad  hear  any  sound  that  reminded 
him  that  he  was  in  the  land  of  the  living. 

Reaching  adrift  of  sand,  where  the  wind -had  cm  led 
np  a  wave  in  the  shape  of  a  furrow,  Arty  wrapped  his 
blanket  about  him  and  lay  down  and  gazed  out  on  the 
lonely  desert  waste,  with  a  strange  sort  of  fascination. 
Pete  whimpered  at  this  unusual  proceeding.  He  seemed 
anxious  and  disturbed  by  the  strange  influence  of  the 
night ;  and  he  crept  under  the  boy's  blanket  and  snuggled 
up  close,  as  if  for  companionship. 

Presently,  while  Arty  was  dreamily  looking  off  into  the 
gloom,  and  wondering  why  he  was  not  sleepy,  the  dog 
growled  uneasily. 

"  Oh,  keep  still,  Pete  !  One  would  suppose  you  saw  a 
ghost." 

But  the  dog,  thus  reproved,  was  silent  only  for  a  mo 
ment.  He  growled  again  with  more  positiveness,  and 
Arty,  straining  his  ear,  caught  no  sound  coming  out  of 
the  mysterious  shadows. 

"  What  a  fool  I  was  to  come  out  here  alone,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  Keep  still,  Pete,  can't  yon  \  But  there  are  nc 
Indians  on  this  desert,  I'm  sure ;  nothing  for  'em  to  eat 
Wild  animals,  perhaps  !  " 


IN  THE  DESEK  T.  183 

And  here  Pete,  who  could  endure  it  no  longer,  Bounced 
out  from  under  the  blanket,  where  he  had  been  growling 
and  grumbling  to  himself,  and  barked  loud,  long,  and 
without  restraint. 

The  boy  hushed  him  for  a  moment,  when  a  faint  cry  of 
"  Hallo  I  Arty ! "  came  out  of  the  darkness.  It  was  Mont's 
vsice,  and  Pete  bounded  off  to  meet  him. 

"Gracious!  how  you  scared  me,  Mont!"  said  Arty,  as 
his  comrade  came  up.  "  What  are  you  ahead  for  ? " 

"  Well  you  see,  Hi  is  driving.  Barney  Crogan  is  asleep 
in  the  wagon,  and  Tom  is  riding  with  Nance's  folks.  So 
I  got  lonesome  and  came  on  ahead  to  find  you.  Nice 
night." 

"  Yes,  but  how  strange  it  is.  See  those  stare.  That's 
Orion,  you  know.  My  mother  showed  me  that  constella 
tion  ever  so  many  years  ago  ;  and,  do  you  know,  I  was  just 
thinking  how  queer  it  is  that  all  those  stars  should  shine 
over  us  here,  away  off  in  the  desert,  just  as  they  used  to  at 
Sugar  Grove ;  just  as  they  used  to  shine  in  Vermont,  I 
suppose — but  I  don't  remember  much  about  that." 

The  young  man  made  no  answer,  but  sat  down  by 
Arty's  side,  clasped  his  hands  over  his  knees,  and  looked 
out  into  the  shadowy  plain.  The  boy  was  silent  again, 
the  dog  curled  up  and  slept  at  his  feet,  and  Mont  thought 
of  the  stars  shining  over  his  New  England  home,  far  away. 
He  saw  the  gable  windows  of  his  mother's  house  gleaming 
in  the  moonlight,  the  bronzed  elms  that  made  dark 
shadows  over  the  lanes  of  the  suburban  town  where  hi3 
old  home  was,  and  the  silvery  river  that  rushed  under  the 
bridge  with  wooden  piers,  which  he  had  crossed  so  often. 
Around  him  stretched  a  trackless,  uninhabitable  waste. 
It  was  as  silent  as  the  tomb.  Out  of  its  depths  came  no 
sound  ;  only  the  chill  night  wind  whispered  over  the  sand- 


184  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

dunes  and  among  the  pebbles  lying  in  the  dark  hollowi 
of  this  sea  of  sand. 

Suddenly,  as  he  mused,  out  in  the  vague  mystery  of  the 
plain  he  heard  the  boom  of  a  deep-toned  bell — once,  twice, 
thrice,  four  times  sounding  on  the  air. 

"The  bell!  the  bell!"  he  shouted,  and  started  to  kia 
feet.  Pete  barked  in  sympathy. 

"  Golly  !  what  bell  ? "  asked  Arty. 

"The  nine  o'clock  bell  at  Cambridgeport !  At  least.  I 
thought  I  heard  it  just  then!"  He  added:  "Good 
heavens!  Am  I  mad? — or  dreaming?"  Then  lie  laughed 
confusedly,  and  said :  "  Well,  I  must  have  been  in  a 
waking  dream.  Don't  mind  it.  Here  comes  the  train." 

And,  as  he  spoke,  the  teams  came,  slowly  grinding  their 
way  through  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

The  waning  moon  had  faded  away  in  the  early  gray  of 
the  morning  before  the  tired  emigrants  reached  Rabbit- 
hole  Springs.  It  was  a  queer  place.  A  dry,  smooth  hill, 
rounded  and  baked,  bore  on  its  topmost  curve  a  cluster  of 
\vells.  These  were  dug  by  emigrants,  and  they  reached  a 
vein  of  water  which  kept  these  square  holes  always  sup 
plied.  Rude  steps  were  cut  in  the  sides  of  the  pits,  and, 
cautiously  creeping  down  them,  the  precious  water  was 
dipped  up  plentifully.  No  matter  how  many  were  filled, 
the  supply  never  gave  out. 

Here  the  party  drank  and  gave  to  their  beasts.  Then, 
filling  all  available  vessels,  they  went  on  to  the  plain  be 
low,  where,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  they  halted 
long  enough  to  get  ready  a  meagre  breakfast.  The  air 
began  to  grow  warm  again  as  the  wind  fell,  and  Arty> 
stupefied  with  fatigue  and  sleeplessness,  stumbled  abcut 
his  camp-stove  in  a  daze.  Everybody  but  himself  had 
dropped  in  the  dust  to  sleep.  lie  was  alone,  although  a 


IN  THE  DESERT.  185 

thousand  people  vvere  camped  all  about  on  tie  sandy 
plain. 

There  was  no  fuel  but  dry  grease-weed,  ai.d  his  hands 
were  in  the  dough. 

"  Get  up  and  get  something  to  burn,  you  Crogan,"  ho 
eiikl  crossly,  kicking  his  sleeping  brother's  shins  as  he  lay 
under  the  wagon. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  drawled  the  young  fellow  in  his 
dreams  ;  "  I'm  coming — coming,"  and  he  was  asleep 
again. 

Half-crying  with  vexation,  Arty  sat  down  on  the  wagon- 
tongue  and  shouted  out,  in  the  most  general  way :  "  If 
some  of  you  fellows  don't  wake  up  and  get  some  firing, 
you'll  have  no  breakfast,  so  now  1  " 

Nobody  stirred ;  but  Nance,  gingerly  picking  her  way 
over  the  pebbly  ground,  barefooted  and  dusty,  came  up 
and  said : 

"  I'll  help  ye,  Arty.  Take  yer  hands  out  o'  that  dough 
and  get  yer  firewood,  and  I'll  finish  yer  bread.  Salt  ? 
Bakin'-powder  ?  Now  git." 

"  Nancy,  you're  the  best  girl  I  ever  knew,"  said  Arty. 

"  That's  what  she  is,"  interposed  Johnny,  who  was  now 
Bitting  up  in  the  sand.  "  Did  you  call,  Arty  ? '' 

"Lie  down  again  and  nap  it  while  you  can,"  said  Arty, 
his  anger  all  gone.  "  You've  a  long  tramp  before  you 
to-day,  my  little  man." 

Only  t^o  hours  were  allowed  for  breakfast,  and  then 
!he  weary  inarch  began  again.  One  of  Rose's  men — a 
tall,  gangling  young  fellow,  known  in  the  camp  aa 
"  Shanghai " — threw  up  his  contract  and  determined  tc 
"  get  out  and  walk."  He  declared  that  he  had  been 
"  puL,  upon  "  long  enough.  He  had  not  been  provided 
with  the  cattle-whip  which  had  boon  promised  him  II« 


186  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

had  been  compelled  to  drive  loose  cattle  in  the  fearful 
duet  of  the  day  before,  while  some  more  favored  person 
was  allowed  to  drive  the  steers.  To  crown  all,  he  had 
had  but  one  spoonful  of  "  dope  "  at  breakfast  that  day 
This  was  too  much.  He  would  go  on  alone. 

Van  Orman,  a  stolid,  black-bearded  man,  one  of  Rose'a 
teamsters,  who  had  very  profound  views  on  the  subject  of 
earthquakes  and  volcanoes,  and  who  never,  under  any 
circumstances,  could  get  enough  to  eat,  listened  to  poor 
Shanghai's  tearful  complaints,  threw  down  his  whip,  and 
said : 

"  Hang  it !     Shanghai,  I'll  go  with  ye  !  " 

And  these  two  pilgrims,  packing  all  their  worldly 
effects  in  one  small  bundle,  took  their  way  over  the  arid 
hills  towards  the  Golden  Land. 

At  noon,  the  long  caravan,  passing  over  a  succession  of 
rocky  and  dusty  ridges,  reached  the  last  one,  from  which 
they  gazed  off  into  the  Great  Plain.  It  was  like  a  vast 
sea.  Far  to  the  westward,  a  chain  of  sharp,  needle-like 
peaks  towered  up  to  the  sky.  Northward,  a  range  of 
hills,  flaming  in  red  and  bine,  looked  as  if  they  were 
masses  of  hot  iron.  South,  the  undulating  level  melted 
into  the  brassy  sky.  Across  the  dusky  waste  a  long  line 
of  wagons  traveled,  far  below  the  point  on  which  the  boy 
emigrants  paused  before  they  began  their  descent. 

Looking  towards  the  red-hot  hills,  and  over  the  plaiii; 
tremulous  with  heated  air,  Arthur  saw,  to  his  intense 
BUI  prise,  a  crooked,  shining  line  of  blue.  It  glided  out 
and  in  among  clumps  of  willows,  and  rippled  in  the 
sunshine.  It  was  a  creek,  a  considerable  stream,  and, 
even  from  this  distance,  he  could  almost  hear  the  gurgl« 
^f  the  blesred  water. 

"  Water!  water !  "  he  ^ried.  almost  with  tears. 


IN  THE  DESERT.  181 

Everybody  gazed  Even  the  sullen  cattle  sniffed  it 
with  their  noses,  and  poor  Tige  set  up  a  disconsolate 
bellow  as  he  looked. 

"Only  a  mirage,  Arty,"  said  Mont,  with  a  tinge  of 
despondency.  "  See  it  pass  ?  " 

And,  as  he  spoke,  the  trees  faded  away,  the  blue  waters 
sank  into  the  earth,  and  only  the  parched  rocks  and  hills 
remained.  Then,  moving  down,  the  delusion  seemed  to 
envelop  the  caravans  below.  The  wagons  grew  and 
grew  until  they  appeared  to  be  fifteen  or  twent)  feet 
high.  Then  these  spectral  figures  broke  in  two,  and  on 
each  wagon  was  the  shape  of  another,  bottom  up  and  ita 
wheels  in  the  air.  Then  on  this  ghostly  figure  was 
another  wagon,  its  wheels  resting  on  the  wheels  of  that 
below.  This  weird  procession  lasted  a  moment,  shud 
dered,  and  melted  away  like  a  dream.  Only  the  common 
place  caravan  plodded  its  weary  way  through  the  pow 
dery  dust. 

At  sunset,  after  a  second  distressing  day's  drive,  the 
travelers  reached  the  range  of  peaks  which,  like  an  island, 
divided  the  desert  into  two  parts.  Here  was  water,  so  hot 
that  an  egg  might  have  been  boiled  in  it.  Tige,  who  was 
on  the  sick  list,  put  his  black  muzzle  into  it,  and,  aston 
ished  at  the  phenomenon,  set  off  on  a  brisk  run  with  his 
tail  in  the  air. 

"  Poor  old  chap !  He  has  not  got  all  his  wits  about  him} 
now  that  he  is  sick,"  said  Mont,  compassionately. 

Even  when  the  water  was  cooled  in  pails,  the  cattle 
distrusted  it,  and  hesitated  to  taste  it.  The  boys  stewed 
beans,  baked  biscuit,  and  made  coffee,  using  a  portion  of 
the  scanty  stock  of  fuel  brought  a  long  way  for  this  very 
purpose ;  for  here  not  even  grease- weed,  nor  the  tiuiesl 


188  T1IE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

blade  of  grass,  ever  grew.     The  surface  of  the  ground 
was  utterly  bare. 

A  little  withered  grass,  brought  from  the  HmnboliH 
remained  in  the  wagons,  and  was  distributed  among  the 
cattle.  Tige  refused  to  eat  it,  and  as  the  boys  sat  in  the 
door  of  their  tent,  eating  their  desert  fare,  the  docile  ani 
mal  came  up,  and,  resting  his  nose  on  Arty's  shoulder, 
Lx)ked,  winking,  into  his  tin  plate  of  stewed  beans. 

"  Have  some,  Tige  ? "  said  Arty.  "  Poor  old  Tige,  he'a 
cff  his  grub." 

And  the  steer,  cautiously  sniffing  at  the  plate,  put  out 
his  tongue,  tasted  with  apparent  satisfaction,  and  licked 
up  the  whole. 

"Now,  /call  that  extravagance!"  said  Tom,  ladling 
ont  another  plateful  of  beans. 

"  And  /  call  it  genewine  humanity.  That's  what  it  is, 
Mister  Smarty,"  rejoined  Hi.  "Whatever  else  we  haven't 
got,  I  allow  we've  beans  enough  to  get  us  through  with." 

At  sundown  onward  went  the  emigrants,  as  if  pursued 
by  some  hidden  enemy.  Out  into  the  desert  swept  the 
great  train  of  wagons,  cattle,  men,  and  women — out  into 
the  desert,  with  the  tall  and  motionless  peaks  of  purple 
towering  above  them  into  the  evening  sky,  now  flushed 
and  rosy.  How  they  tramped  on  and  on,  like  a  caravan 
of  life,  out  into  an  unknown  world,  rich  and  poor,  young 
and  old  together  !  Leaving  behind  them  their  homes,  and 
leaving  by  the  way  their  dead,  they  swept  past  the  islanded 
mountains,  and  so  pressed  on  to  the  West. 

When  the  night  came  on,  and  the  yellow  moon  flooded 
the  vast  level  plain  with  liquid  light,  the  sight  was  very 
strange.  The  air  was  cool,  the  ground  white  with  a  firm 
Band  which  scarcely  yielded  to  the  easily  running  wheels 
tn  the  weird  lustre  that  cohered  the  plain,  a  lame  steei-j 


/If  THE  DESERT.  181 

fnrncd  out  to  die,  and  standing  away  ofl  from  the  trail 
loomed  up  like  a  giraffe.  Looking  buck,  the  long  train 
seemed  to  rise  up  and  melt  away  into  the  air ;  and  forward, 
the  blue-black  mountains  that  bounded  the  plain  were 
tieeked  with  silver  where  the  moonlight  fell  on  quartz 
ledges  and  patches  of  belated  snow. 

Occasionally  a  cry  from  the  rear  told  that  another 
"  critter  "  had  fallen,  and  some  one  must  be  detailed  to 
bring  it  along,  if  possible.  But  the  train  rolled  on  until 
the  camp-fires  of  Granite  Creek  shone  on  the  desert.  At 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  inexpressibly  weary,  the  emi 
grants  reached  a  slightly  raised  plateau  at  the  foot  of 
another  range  of  mountains.  Without  waiting  to  examine 
the  ground,  which  was  a  rough  plain  bordering  on  a  creek, 
the  boys  put  up  their  tent,  unyoked  the  cattle,  who  were 
too  tired  to  stray,  dropped  into  their  blankets,  and  slept 
until  long  after  the  next  day's  sunrise. 

Many  of  the  cattle  brought  here,  after  the  drive  across 

v  O  «* 

the  Great  Plains,  were  left  to  die.  The  boys  rested  one 
day,  and,  when  another  night  came  on,  they  yoked  their 
unwilling  oxen,  and  were  off  again.  It  was  sunset  when 
they  passed  southward  around  the  spur  of  mountains  which 
lay  across  their  path.  And  it  was  four  o?clock  on  the 
following  morning  when  they  paused  and  built  another 
camp-fire  in  the  midst  of  the  last  stretch  of  desert,  on  the 
western  side  of  the  range.  Here  was  a  level,  floor-like 
plain,  and  the  tents  pitched  with  the  flaps  rolled  up  gave 
the  scene  an  Oriental  air.  No  Arabian  coffee  in  the  desert 
was  evermore  delicious  than  that  which  our  weary  young 
pilgrims  drank.  And  no  delicacies  of  a  luxurious  city 
could  have  been  more  welcome  to  these  wandering  sons 
than  the  well-browned  biscuits  which  A'ty's  deft  hands 
drew  fr>m  their  camp- oven. 


190  TUB  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

The  last  day's  travel  was  the  hardest  of  all.  Catth 
dropped  by  the  wayside.  Strong  men  fainted  with 
fatigue,  or  grew  delirious  with  sleeplessness.  In  some 
of  the  companies  there  was  real  want,  and  strange  rumora 
of  a  plot  to  rob  the  better  provided  ones  floated  back  and 
forth  among  the  trains,  now  moving  once  more  in  single 
file  over  the  bleak  and  barren  hills.  No  vegetation  met 
the  eye,  no  insect  or  bird  cried  in  the  joyless  air;  a  fierce 
sun  poured  down  its  rays  upon  the  struggling  line.  Here 
and  there,  a  grave,  newly  made  and  rudely  marked, 
showed  where  some  poor  pilgrim  had  fallen  by  the  way. 
The  very  sky  seemed  to  add  to  the  utter  desolation  of  the 
land. 

But,  at  sunset,  the  young  emigrants,  after  fording  a  salt 
creek,  climbed  the  rocky  ridge  which  separated  the  desert 
from  the  fertile  region  known  as  the  Smoke  Creek  country. 
The  train  toiled  on  and  passed  over  the  divide.  Arthur 
and  Mont  paused  and  looked  back.  The  setting  sun  bathed 
the  plain  below  them  in  golden  radiance.  A  flood  of 
yellow  sunshine  gushed  over  the  arid  waste,  and  broke  in 
masses  among  the  violet  shadows  of  the  mountain  range 
beyond.  Eastward,  the  rocky  pinnacles,  glorified  with 
purple,  gold,  and  crimson,  pierced  a  sky  rosy  and  flecked 
with  yellow.  It  was  like  a  glimpse  of  fairy-land. 

Arty  held  his  breath  as  he  gazed,  a^d  forgot  his  fatigue 
for  a  moment. 

"  It  is  as  beautiful  as  a  dream,"  said  the  boy. 

"And  as  cruel  as  death,"  added  Mr nt 

ei  I  shall  r.ever  forget  it,  Mont." 

«NorL' 


THE  GOLDEN  LAND.  19\ 


CHAPTER  X  VII. 

THE    GOLDEN     LAND, 

"PooR  old  Tige!  We  may  as  well  take  him  oat  of  tba 
yoke." 

The  pluchy  little  ox  would  have  dragged  on  with  his 
mate  Molly  until  he  dropped.  But  he  was  too  sick  to 
travel.  The  boys  were  now  near  Honey  Lake  Valley, 
where  feed  was  good  and  water  plenty.  They  had  crossed 
the  last  considerable  ridge,  or  divide,  before  reaching  the 
Sierra;  a  few  days  more  would  bring  them  to  their 
journey's  end. 

The  faithful  beast  had  pulled  steadily  through  the  awful 
desert  and  over  the  volcanic  region  which  lay  between 
that  region  and  the  Honey  Lake  country.  As  Johnny 
and  Arthur  unfastened  the  yoke  to  let  the  invalid  Tige 
go  free,  the  creature  looked  around  in  wonder,  as  if  to  ask 
the  reason  of  this  unwonted  proceeding. 

"Tige,  my  boy,"  said  Arthur,  "I  am  afraid  you  won't 
wear  the  yoke  again." 

"  Is  he  so  bad  as  tha  •,  Arty  ? "  asked  Johnny,  sympatheti 
cally,  and  almost  with  tears. 

"Well,  you  see,  Johnny,"  interposed  Barnard,  "  there 
ia  very  little  chance  for  a  critter  that's  alkalied  ever  to  get 
well.  That  dose  of  melted  fat  we  gave  him  yesterday 
didn't  do  him  one  bit  of  good.  Hi  says  that  he  allowa 
that  his  milt  is  all  eaten  through  with  alkali.  Whatevei 
the  milt  may  be,  I  don't  know  ;  do  yor.,  Mont  I " 


i  y •>  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

"Diaphragm,  I  gness,"  said  Mont. 

1  Dyer  what?"  asked  Tom.  "Dyer— well,  that's  a 
gov/d  one.  1  tell  you  it's  the  milt.  Don't  you  know  what 
the  milt  is?" 

''Give  it  up,"  said  Barney,  shortly.  "Hurrah,  there's 
the  Sierra ! " 

And  as  he  spoke,  their  team,  drawn  now  by  one  yoke, 
rounded  the  ragged  summit  of  the  ridge,  and  they  beheld 
the  Sierra  Nevada. 

Below  was  a  winding  valley,  dotted  with  isolated  lofty 
pines,  and  bright  with  green  grass.  A  blue  stream  ram 
bled  about  the  vale  and  emptied  into  a  muddy-looking 
lake  at  the  south.  This  was  Honey  Lake,  and  the  stream 
was  Susan's  River.  Beyond,  westward,  was  a  vast  Avail, 
bristling  with  trees  and  crowned  with  white  peaks.  It 
was  the  Snowy  Range  of  Mountains.  Beyond  it  was  the 
promised  land. 

The  boys  gazed  writh  delight  on  the  emerald  valley  and 
the  sparkling  river ;  but  chiefly  were  they  fascinated  by 
the  majestic  mountains  beyond  these.  They  were  not  near 
enough  to  see  the  smaller  features  of  the  range.  But  their 

O  ^ 

eyes  at  last  beheld  the  boundary  that  shut  them  out  of  the 
Land  of  Gold.  The  pale  green  of  the  lower  hills  faded 
into  a  purple-blue,  which  marked  where  the  heavy  growth 
of  pines  began.  Above  this,  and  broken  with  many  a 
densely  shadowed  gulch  and  ravine,  rose  the  higher  Sierra, 
bald  and  rocky  in  places,  and  shading  off  into  a  tender 
biiie  where  the  tallest  peaks,  laced  with  snow,  were  sharp]  y 
cut  against  the  sky. 

Before  the  young  emigrants  were  water,  rest,  and 
pasturage.  But  beyond  were  the  mysterious  fastnesses  in 
which  me7i,  while  they  gazed,  were  unlocking  the  goldec 
secrets  of  the  earth.  Up  there,  in  those  vague  blue 


THE  GOI.LKN  LAND.  193 

shadows,  where  the  mountain  torrents  have  their  birth, 
miners  were  rending  the  soil,  breaking  the  rocks,  and 
searching  for  hidden  treasure.  The  boys  pressed  on. 

But  two  days  passed  before  the  emigrants,  with  their 
single  yoke  of  cattle,  and  often  delayed  by  swamps,  and 
by  getting  on  false  trails,  reached  the  base  of  the  Sierra. 
It  was  now  late  in  September,  and  the  nights  were  cool. 
While  on  the  high  ridges  west  of  the  Great  Desert,  they 
had  had  a  touch  of  cold  weather.  Ice  had  formed  outside 
of  the  tent  on  more  than  one  night ;  and,  inside,  the  boys 
had  shivered  under  their  blankets  and  buffalo  skins,  though 
the  days  were  hot.  But  here  was  fuel  in  plenty. 

Here,  too,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  they  found  a 
ranch,  or  farm,  the  tiller  of  which  had  steadily  refused 
to  be  charmed  away  by  tales  of  gold  discoveries  on  the 
other  side  of  the  wall  of  mountains. 

He  leaned  on  his  rail  fence  and  eyed  the  vast  procession 
of  emigrants  with  a  cynical  air.  The  boys  almost  envied 
him  the  possession  of  such  a  trim  little  farm ;  for,  though 
it  was  really  rude  and  straggling,  it  looked  like  a  home,  a 
haven  of  rest,  after  their  lung  march  in  the  desert  and 
wilderness.  They  felt,  for  the  first  time,  that  they  were 
ragged,  uncouth,  toil-stained,  and  vagabond ish  in  appear 
ance.  Here  was  a  man  wearii.g  a  white  shirt,  or  it  was 
once  white ;  and  a  woman  stood  in  the  doorway,  with 
knitting-work  in  her  hands.  It  was  a  domestic  picture, 
and  in  sharp  contrast  to  emigrant  life  on  the  plains. 

"Oh,  you're  bound  to  the  gold-diggin's,  you  be? "ho 
said,  with  an  unpleasant  leer.  "  Wai.  now,  I've  heerd 
that  men  were  makin'  wages  over  there  — day  wages  jnst 
— and  flour  at  twenty  dollars  a  hundred.  But  boys — wal, 
now,  this  gets  me!  Boys?  No  wages  yonder  for 
you  jest  bet  your  life  !  " 
9 


194  THE  BOY  E^ff  GRANTS. 

"Don't  you  worry  yourself,  old  man,"  retorted  Hi,  who 
always  did  the  rude  badinage  of  the  party.  '•  We'll  come 
back  next  week  and  buy  out  your  shebang,  boys  or  no  boys, 
wages  or  no  wages." 

"  Got  any  vegetables  to  sell  ? "  asked  Barney,  civilly. 

"Vegetables!  Stranger,  look  a-there!"  said  the  raft- 
chero,  pointing  to  a  patch  of  ground  well  dug  over.  "  D'ye 
Bee  that  there  patch  ?  Wai,  that  there  patch  was  full  of 
corn  and  taters.  Corn  don't  do  well  here  ;  too  cold  and 
short  seasons.  But  this  year  them  crazy  critters  that  hev 
been  pilin'  over  the  mountains  hev  carried  off  every  stalk 
and  blade  and  ear.  What  they  didn't  beg,  they  stole  ;  and 
what  wasn't  growed,  was  carried  off  half-growed." 

"  Stole  your  crop  ?  " 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it.  I'm  from  Michigan-,  1  am, 
and  was  brought  up  regular ;  but  I  jest  laid  out  in  that 
corn-field,  nights,  with  a  double-barrel  shot-gun,  unte 
there  wa'n't  no  corn  for  me  to  hide  in.  Stole  ?  Why,  them 
pesky  gold-hunters  would  hev  carried  the  ground  a\vay 
from  under  my  feet,  if  they'd  a-wauted  it.  Smart  fellers, 
they  be ! " 

"  Why  don't  you  go  on  and  try  your  luck  in  the  mines  ?" 
asked  Barnard,  who,  with  Mont  and  Arty,  had  lingered 
behind,  hoping  that  they  might  buy  a  few  fresh  vegetables. 

''  So  far  as  I've  heerd  tell,  there's  no  luck  there.  Here 
and  there  a  chunk,  but  nothin'  stiddy.  The  mines  hev 
gi'n  out ;  they've  been  givin'  out  ever  since  they  was  struck, 
and  now  they've  gi'n  out  clean." 

"  And  are  you  going  to  stay  here  and  farm  it  1 "  asked 
Barney. 

"Young  feller" — and  here  the  rough-faced  rancherc 
put  on  a  most  sagacious  air — "ranchin'  here  is  better  than 
gold-diggin'  over  yender.  Here  I  stay.  That  there's  mj 


TEE  GOLDEN  LAND.  195 

wife,  Susan ;  that's  Susan's  River  yender,  and  this  here'i 
Susanville,  now  hear  me." 

"  And  you  find  farming  profitable,  although  the  emi 
grants  steal  your  crop  ?" 

"  Wai,  young  feller,"  he  said  to  Mont,  "  you're  a  sort  of 
ci  PI]  -spoken  chap ;  seein'  it's  you,  I'll  sell  you  a  few  tateiy 
for  a  dollar  a  pound." 

The  boys  bought  two  pounds  of  potatoes  and  went  on, 
alarmed  at  their  first  great  extravagance. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Rose,  when  they  told  him  of  their 
purchase.  "You'll  have  no  more  chance  to  buy  potatoes 
after  this.  Reckon  you  might  as  well  get  yer  fust  and 
last  taste  of  'em  now." 

Camping  at  night  in  the  forests  of  the  Sierra  was  like 
being  in  paradise.  No  more  sand,  no  more  sage-brush,  no 
more  brackish  or  hot  water  in  the  rivulets.  Gigantic  pines 
stretched  far  up  into  the  star-lighted  sky.  Ice-cold  streams 
danced  over  the  mountain  side.  The  cattle  laid  down  to 
rest  in  nooks  carpeted  with  lush  grass.  The  boys  built  a 
tremendous  fire  in  the  midst  of  their  camp,  piling  on  the 
abundant  fuel  in  very  wantonness,  as  they  remembered 
how  lately  they  were  obliged  to  economize  handfuls  of 
dry  grass  and  weeds  in  their  little  camp-stove. 

This  was  luxury  and  comfort  unspeakable  ;  and  as  they 
basked  in  the  cheerful  light  and  heat,  Hi  said  : 

"  I  allow  I'd  just  as  soon  stay  here  forever.  The  gold 
mines  are  a  fool  to  this  place.'" 

Barney  poked  the  glowing  fire,  which  was  kindled 
against  a  mighty  half-dead  pine,  and  said  : 

"  Who  votes  this  is  a  good  place  to  stay  in  ?  " 

There  was  a  chorus  of  laughing  "  I's  "  about  the  fire,  as 
the  boys  lounged  in  every  comfortable  attitude  possible, 
At  that,  there  was  a  horrible  roar  from  the  pine-tree  by 


1 96  THE  BO  Y  EMIORAN1  '8. 

the  fire,  and  from  the  midst  of  the  curling  flames  suddenly 
appeared  a  huge  creature,  which  bounded  through  the, 
blaze,  scattered  the  brands,  broke  up  the  circle  of  loungers, 
who  fled  in  all  directions,  knocked  over  little  Johnny,  and 
disappeared  down  the  side  of  the  mountain,  with  a  savage 
growl. 

The  boys  stared  at  each  other  in  blank  amazement,  and 
with  some  terror. 

"  An  elephant !  " 

"  A  tiger  !  " 

"  A  catamount! " 

"  A  grizzly  bear !  " 

"  It  was  a  bear  1  I  felt  his  fur  as  he  scrabbled  over 
me  !  "  said  Johnny  with  a  scared  face  and  his  teeth  chat 
tering. 

Just  then,  there  was  a  shot  down  the  mountain  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  monster  had  gone  crashing  through 
the  underbrush.  Then  another,  and  another  shot  sounded. 
Everybody  ran.  They  came  up  with  two  or  three  men 
fro>n  a  neighboring  camp,  running  in  the  same  direction. 
Reaching  a  little  hollow  in  the  wood,  they  found  two  em 
igrants  examining  a  confused  dark  heap  on  the  ground. 

"  What  is  it? "  cried  the  new-comers. 

"  A  b'ar,"  said  one  of  the  men,  taking  out  his  knife  and 
making  ready  to  skin  the  animal.  "  Heerd  him  crashin' 
through  the  brush  and  let  him  have  it/' 

<k  A  grizzly  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  No.  a  cinnamon,  I  allow,"  said  the  other  man,  striking 
a  light  for  his  pipe,  before  he  began  to  help  his  comrade. 

Johnny,  who  had  not  quite  recovered  from  his  fright, 
looked  at  the  bronzed  face  of  the  emigrant,  illuminated  a§ 
it  was  for  a  moment  by  the  flaming  match,  and  ex 
claimed  : 


THE  G  OLDEN  LAND.  197 

*  Bill  Bunce !  " 

u  Hollo  !  my  little  kid,"  said  the  fellow  unconcernedly. 
".Wharve  yer  bin  this  long  back  ?  " 

Johnny  was  too  much  astonished  to  reply,  and  Mont, 
with  some  severity  of  manner,  said  : 

"  This  is  the  boy  you  abandoned  on  the  Mississippi 
River,  is  it  not,  Bunce?  " 

"  Well,  now,  strannger,  I  allow  yon  are  too  many  for  me, 
My  understandin'  was  that  he  throwed  off  on  me.  Say, 
pard,"  he  continued,  addressing  his  mate,  "just  yank  him 
over  on  his  back.  There  now,  this  skin's  wuth  savin' 
He's  fat,  he  is  ;  must  weigh  nigh  onto  three  hundred." 

The  boys  went  back  to  their  camp-fire  very  discontent 
edly.  After  all,  there  was  nothing  to  be  dore.  They 
might  have  accused  Bunce  of  attempting  to  steal  Old  Jim. 

""Well,  we've  got  our  baked  potatoes,  anyhow,"  grumbled 
Barney,  as  he  raked  two  dollars'  worth  of  that  useful 
vegetable  out  of  the  ashes. 

Later,  while  they  were  debating  as  to  what  they  might 
demand  of  Bill  Bunce,  when  they  should  see  him  again, 
the  comrade  of  that  mysterious  person  appeared  by  tho 
camp-fire  with  a  huge  bear-steak. 

"With  Mr.  Bunco's  compliments,"  he  said,  with  a  grin. 
"  It  was  your  bear-like,  as  it  mought  be  ;  eaineouten  your 
back-log,"  and  the  stranger  disappeared. 

"  Cheeky,"  said  Barney. 

'  Now,  a  b'ar-steak  is  not  to  be  oneezed  at.  We'll  have 
•?  jaw  with  that  Bunce  feller  to-morrow,"  said  Hi,  survey 
ing  the  welcome  fresh  meat  with  great  gratification. 

But,  next  day,  when  the  boys  awoke  at  sun  rise,  and  sur 
veyed  the  neighboring  camping-grounds,  no  trace  of  Bill 
Bunco's  party  was  to  be  found.  They  had  "  lit  out "  early 
in  the  dawning,  a  good-natured  emigrant  informed  them 


195  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

On  the  second  day  after  this  adventure,  the  party  reached 
ti  narrow  ridge,  the  summit  of  the  gap  in  the  Sierra  ovei 
which  they  were  passing.  They  had  toiled  up  a  steep  in 
cline,  winding  among  rocks  and  forests.  Before  then 
was  a  descent  too  steep  for  any  team  to  be  driven  dowr 
it.  Yet  the  road  pitched  down  this  tremendous  incline, 
and  they  saw  the  tracks  of  wagons  that  had  just  gone  on 
ahead. 

"  See  here,"  said  Mont,  who  had  been  spying  about. 
"  Here  are  marks  on  the  trees,  as  if  ropes  had  been  slipped 
around  them.  They  have  let  the  wagons  down  this  inclined 
plane  by  ropes." 

"  But  where  are  the  ropes  for  us  ?  And  how  do  they 
get  the  cattle  down  ?  Slide  them  ?  "  asked  Barney. 

"  I  don't  know  where  our  ropes  are  to  be  got,"  replied 
Morse.  "  But  you  can  see  the  tracks  of  the  cattle  in  the 
underbrush.  They  have  been  driven  down  that  way." 

Here  was  a  dilemma.  They  could  hardly  urge  the 
cattle  up  the  steep  slope  on  the  eastern  side.  There  was 
not  room  enough  for  two  teams  to  stand  on  top,  and  west 
ward  the  ridge  dropped  away  sharply,  like  the  smooth 
roof  of  a  house,  for  several  hundred  feet. 

'Oh,  here  comes  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Counte 
nance  ! "  said  Mont.  "  He  has  a  coil  of  rope."  And  the 
sad-faced  Messer  came  urging  his  cattle  up  the  hill.  The 
situation  was  explained  to  him. 

"  Yes,  I  allow  I've  heerd  tell  of  this  yere  place,"  he 
2aid,  "  and  powerful  bad  sleddiu'  hit  is.  Now,  how  d'  yer 
allow  to  get  down  ? " 

Barnard  explained  to  him  how  other  people  must  have 
gone  down.  The  rope  was  produced  from  Messer's  wagon, 
one  end  made  fast  to  the  hinder  axle  of  a  wagon.  Then 
a  turn  was  taken  about  a  tree,  and  some  of  the  party  care 


THE  GOLDEN  LAND.  199 

fully  steadied  the  vehicle  down  the  hill,  while  the  others 
held  the  rope  taught,  and  let  it  slip  aromri  the  tree-trunk, 
as  the  wagon  slid  slowly  down.  The  cxen  and  looea 
cattle  were  driven  over  by  a  roundabout  way  through  the 
brush.  Poor  old  Tige  at  once  lay  down  on  reaching  the 
valley  below,  and  Arthur  almost  wept  as  the  sick  creature 
staggered  to  his  feet  and  struggled  on  after  the  trair, 
when  they  had  crossed  the  divide  and  yoked  up  on  the 
western  side  of  the  range. 

Passing  through  "  Devil's  Corral,"  a  curious,  huge  bowl 
of  rocks,  set  up  like  a  gigantic  wall  about  a  grassy  hollow, 
the  party  camped  on  the  margin  of  a  magnificent  meadow. 
Here  was  a  flat  valley,  filled  with  springs  and  rank  with 
grass  and  herbage.  A  pure  stream  circled  about  its  edge, 
and,  like  a  wall,  a  growth  of  tall  pines  and  firs  shut  it  in 
all  about.  The  forest  which  sloped  down  to  this  enchanted 
spot  was  aromatic  with  gums  and  resin,  and  multitudes 
of  strange  birds  filled  the  air. 

In  this  lavish  plenty,  the  boys  camped  for  two  days,  in 
order  that  the  tired  cattle  might  be  rested.  It  seemed  as 
if  the  abundant  grass  and  sparkling  water  might  restore 
Tige's  health,  if  anything  could.  Arty  carefully  tended 
the  poor  beast.  But  he  was  filled  with  forebodings,  and, 
rising  early  in  the  morning  after  their  first  night  in  the 
valley,  went  out  to  look  after  his  favorite.  Johnny  was 
up  before  him,  and  came  towards  Arty,  dashing  something 
from  his  eyes  with  his  brown  fist. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Arthur,  with  a  little  quiver  in  his  voice 

"  He's  all  swelled  up,"  sobbed  the  boy. 

Arthur  ran  down  into  the  meadow.  The  little  black 
steer  was  lying  cold  and  stiff.  Tige's  jorrney  wai 
done. 

There  was  lamentation  in  the  camp,  and  the  saliov 


•200  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Missourian,  who  had  camped  with  Captain  Rose  and  th« 
boys,  said,  with  the  deepest  melancholy : 

"  Such  luck  !     Wish  I  hadn't  a-come  !  " 

From  this  point,  emigrants  dropped  out  to  the  north  and 
Eolith,  and  some  pressed  on  to  the  westward,  striking  for 
the  rich  mines  said  to  exist  on  the  edge  of  the  Sacramento 
Valley. 

The  news  was  good.  Mo  e  than  that,  it  was  intoxicat 
ing.  Men  raced  about  as  if  they  had  a  fever  in  their 
bones.  The  wildest  stories  of  gold-finds  floated  among 
the  camps,  faces  grew  sharp  with  anxiety  and  covetous- 
ness,  and  mysterious  murmurs  of  robberies  and  darker 
crimes  began  to  fill  the  air.  The  boys  were  on  the  edge 
of  the  gold  diggings.  The  wildness  and  lawlessness  came 
up  from  the  whirl  beneath  like  faint  echoes  into  these 
peaceful  old  forest  solitudes. 

On  the  last  day  of  September,  the  boy  emigrants 
mounted  Chapparal  Hill.  Mont.  Arty,  and  Barnard, 
climbing  a  peak  near  by,  looked  off  on  a  golden  valley, 
rolling  far  to  the  west,  shining  with  streams  and  checkered 
with  patches  of  timber.  Westward,  a  misty  mountain 
wall  of  blue  melted  into  the  pale  sky.  Nearer,  a  range  of 
purple  peaks  rose,  like  a  floating  island  in  the  midst  of  a 
yellow  sea.  This  was  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento,  with 
the  Coast  Range  in  the  distance  and  the  Sutter  Buttes  in 
the  midst.  Behind  all,  but  unseen,  rolled  the  Pacific. 

The  wagons  crept  over  Chapparal  Hill,  halted  by  a 
group  of  canvas  and  log  houses.  A  party  of  uncouth- 
looking  men  were  loitering  about  the  camp.  Beyond,  by 
a  creek,  others  were  shovelling  soil  into  a  long  wooden 
trough,  in  which  water  was  running.  Others  were  wading, 
waist  deep,  in  the  stream. 

There  was  an  odor  of  fried   bacon  in    the  air,  and  the 


THE  GOLDEN  LAND.  201 

sink  ing  sun  shone  redly  over  the  camp  fires,  where  the 
men  were  cooking  their  supper. 

"How's  the  diggings  ?  v  asked  Captain  Rose  of  a  tall 
fellow,  who  was  lying  at  full  length  on  the  ground,  and 
teasing  a  captive  magpie. 

"  Slim,"  was  the  reply. 

"Well,  I  reckon  we'll  stop  here  for  the  present.  Claims 
all  taken  np  ? " 

"  Thar's  room  enough  ;  "  and  the  miner  laughed  as  ho 
went  on  \vith  his  play  with  the  bird. 

The  boys,  somewhat  dejected,  drove  down  by  "the 
branch,"  unyoked  their  cattle,  and  set  ujr  their  tent. 

This  v/as  the  Golden  Land. 


202  THE  BO  I  EMIGRANTS. 


CROWBAIT   GULCH. 

THERE  was  nc  t  much  time  for  the  young  miners  to  look 
about  them.  Their  provisions  were  nearly  exhausted,  cold 
weather  was  coming  on,  and  what  mining  was  to  be  done 
must  quickly  be  undertaken.  They  were  on  one  of  the 
innumerable  branches  of  the  Rio  de  los  Plumas,  or,  as  the 
new-comers  called  it,  "  for  short,"  Feather  River.  This 
branch  was  only  a  shallow  creek  now,  rippling  over  a  bed 
of  gravel.  Later,  it  would  be  swollen  with  the  fall  rains, 
and  choked  with  floating  ice.  Their  stock  of  ready  cash 
which  had  seemed  considerable  when  they  left  home,  was 
now  so  small  that  it  would  hardly  buy  a  hundred  pounds 
of  flour.  Their  bacon  was  quite  gone,  and  the  only  staple 
article  of  food  left  them  was  a  goodly  bag  of  beans.  Far 
mer  Stevens  had  insisted  on  their  taking  aplenty  of  beans. 
The  brys  had  remonstrated,  and  Barney  had  laughingly 
said  that  the  miners  would  accuse  them  of  being  bean 
merchants.  But  he  and  Arty  now  saw  the  wisdom  of  their 
father's  advice.  Beans  were  in  great  demand.  Sixteen  dol 
lars  for  twc  quarts  of  beans  had  been  paid  at  the  Chap- 
paral  Hill  diggings  ;  and  the  boys  had  nearly  a  bushel. 

By  some  miscalculation,  as  they  thought,  they  had 
brought  more  coffee  than  they  needed.  Often  and  often, 
the  weather  was  so  bad  that  they  could  not  roast  and  grind 
the  green  coffee  which  was  part  of  their  outfit;  they  had 
used  the  tea,  because  that  could  be  easily  steeped,  as  long 


CROWBA1T  GULCH.  203 

as  they  sould  heat  a  pot  of  water.  But  the  coffee  had  re 
sisted  all  their  efforts  to  get  rid  of  it.  When  their  wagon 
was  upset  in  the  hard  places  on  the  plains  and  over  the 
mountains,  the  coffee  was  always  safe.  The  passing  emi 
grants,  who  asked  them  if  they  had  any  stores  to  sell  or 
exchange,  never  wanted  coffee.  It  was  too  much  trouble 
to  prepare  it.  The  boys  had  thirty  pounds  of  coffee  and 
almost  a  bushel  of  beans.  This  represented  a  small  for 
tune,  though  they  had  no  money. 

They  had  one  ox,  one  cow,  and  one  horse.  But  poor  old 
Jim  was  so  thin  and  feeble  that  he  was  at  once  named  by 
the  friendly  miners  "  Crowbait."  Their  wagon  was  in  fair 
condition.  The  tent  was  as  good  as  new.  They  had  pans, 
picks,  and  shovels  for  gold  mining ;  and  with  stout  hearts, 
strong  hands,  and  high  hopes,  what  was  not  possible  to 
them  ?  The  gold  was  hidden  all  about  them  in  the  ravines, 
gulches,  and  river  beds.  They  had  come  to  dig  it  out,  and 
they  were  impatient  to  begin. 

Scattered  up  and  down  the  stream  were  small  encamp 
ments  of  diggers.  A  few  had  tents ;  many  slept  in  the 
open  air,  wrapped  in  their  blankets,  though  the  nights 
were  chill.  Some  of  the  more  home-loving  miners  had 
built  booths  of  boughs  and  logs,  and  had  fashioned  rude 
tables,  benches,  and  a  few  bunks  from  the  costly  lumber 
which  found  its  way  up  here  from  Greasertown,  a  small 
camp  down  the  river,  where  some  industrious  Mexicans 
had  established  a  saw-pit.  These  little  settlements  were 
at  once  given  names  of  some  sc  rt,  in  order  to  distinguish 
them  from  each  other  in  the  i  ude  gossip  of  the  country. 
One  group  of  tents,  cabins  and  booths,  which  boasted  of  a 
population  of  twenty-five  men,  was  known  as  "  Forty 
Thieves,"  though  there  were  only  twenty-five  people  in  the 
camp,  aad  not  one  was  a  thief.  Another  was  called  "  Fatty 


204:  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Gulch,"  because  one  of  the  members  of  the  party  in  th« 
camp  happened  to  be  an  excessively  lean  fellow ;  and 
another  was  dubbed  "  Swellhead  Diggings,"  on  account 
of  the  personal  character  of  several  miners  located  there. 
Farther  down  stream  were  "  Slap-Jack  Bar,"  "  Bogus 
Thunder,"  and  "One  Eye,"  names  which  might  have 
meant  something  yesterday,  and  which  stuck  there  long 
after  men  had  forgotten  why  they  were  ever  given. 

"  I  allow  I'll  light  out  of  this,"  said  Captain  Rose,  when 
they  had  been  two  days  in  camp.  They  had  settled  up 
accounts  all  around,  and  were  now  ready  to  dissolve  part 
nership. 

"Well,  if  you  go,  we  allow  to  stay,  and  if  you  stay,  we 
allow  to  go,"  said  Hiram,  very  frankly.  "  Thar  ain't 
room  for  all  of  us." 

"  You  can  stay  then,  boys,"  said  Rose.  "  There's  nothin' 
doin'  here.  Nobody's  makin'  more  than  one  or  two 
ounces  a  day,  and  I  want  more  than  that." 

''  More  than  that ! "  cried  Arty,  opening  his  eyes  with 
amazement.  "  Why  !  one  ounce  is  sixteen  dollars.  Six 
teen  to  thirty  dollars  a  day  ! " 

"  That  may  suit  you,  young  fellers,"  said  Rose,  discon 
tentedly.  "  I've  heerd  tell  on  chaps  down  on  the  Ameri 
can  River  takin'  out  a  thousand  dollars  at  a  lick.  That's 
about  my  size.  I'm  bound  to  go  out  to  the  American. 
Be  you  fellers  goin'  to  hang  together  ?  " 

"  Really,  we  had  not  thought  of  that,"  said  Mont,  with 
a  smile.  "  We  have  not  divided  up  our  little  property. 
I  suppose  we  shall  stick  together  for  the  present." 

"  I  thought  ye  were  limited  pardners,"  rejoined  Rose, 
"  And  if  ye  are,  I'd  like  to  have  Arty  along  with  me. 
Arty's  a  chirpy  boy,  and  I'l.  give  him  a  good  sl.ow  if  hoM 
like  to  go  along." 


CRO  WBAIT  Q  UL GH.  205 

Arthur  had  heard  a  groat  deal  about  the  fat  ulous  riches 
dug  up  along  the  banks  of  the  American,  and  he  was  fired 
with  ambition  to  make  money  suddenly.  Here  was  a 
chance  for  him  to  go.  He  looked  at  Barney  and  Johnny. 
He  caught  Mont's  eye  watching  him  with  an  expression 
of  anxiety,  and,  breathing  a  little  quicker  than  usual,  ho 
gaid :  "  Thank  you,  Captain  Rose,  I'll  stay  with  the  rest 
of  the  boys.5' 

"  Hope  you'll  never  be  sorry  for  it.  There's  lots  of 
gold  down  there.  None  here  to  speak  of,"  and  Captain 
Rose  went  away  disappointed,  for  he  liked  the  lad. 

"How. about  this  pardnership,  anyhow?"  said  Hiram, 
when  Rose,  a  few  days  later,  had  left  them  to  themselves. 

"  My  idea  about  it  is  that  we  go  right  on  together," 
said  Barney.  "Arty  and  I  must  hang  together,  of  course. 
And  I  don't  see  bow  we  can  give  up  Johnny,  lie's  bound 
to  stay  with  Arty,  there,  so  that's  three  of  us  to  begin 
with.  How  about  you  and  Tom,  Hi  ? " 

Hi  "  allowed  "  that  lie  could  not  go  off  by  himself. 
Tom  was  willing  to  do  whatever  Hi  said,  but  he  preferred 
to  stay  with  the  Stevens  boys. 

"  I  was  the  last  one  of  the  firm  at  Council  Bluffs,  you 
know,"  said  Mont,  "  and  I  agreed  that  it  should  be  a  Km 
ited  partnership,  lasting  only  until  we  reached  the  dig 
gingo  ;  and  here  we  are." 

"  And  you  want  to  bust  up  the  pardnership? "  demanded 
Hi. 

"Oh  no,  I'm  in  favor  of  continuing  the  old  Jinn  as 
long  as  we  can  live  and  work  together  harmoniously." 

"  That's  just  my  gait,"  said  Hi,  enthusiastically. 
"Shake!"  and  he  extended  his  rough  hand  in  token  of 
concluding  the  bargain.  Mont  took  his  hand,  and,  with  a 
laugh,  put  his  arm  on  Arty's  shoulder,  and  said,  "  This  is 


•206  THE  B07  EMIGRANTS. 

the  little  chap  that  keeps  us  together.  So  long  as  he  hai 
not  set  the  example  of  running  off  on  a  wild  goose  chase, 
we  can  do  no  less  than  stay  here  and  work  it  out." 

"  I'd  have  liked  to  have  seen  him  going  off  with  Ji.bn 
Rose,"  grumbled  Barney. 

"It's  a  share  and  share  alike,  isn't  it?"  asked  Hi. 
Just  then  his  eye  lighted  on  Johnny,  who  was  busily 
cooking  over  the  plentiful  camp-fire.  Hi's  countenance 
fell,  and  he  asked,  with  some  constraint,  "  How  about  the 
little  kid,  yonder  ? " 

"Don't  call  him  a  kid,"  said  Arthur,  indignantly. 
"  That's  slang.  Besides,  Johnny's  quite  a  big  boy  now." 

"Yes"  laughed  Hi.      "He's  four  months   older   than 

*  c3 

when  we  took  him  in  at  Council  Bluffs.  He  can't  do  no 
work.  You  can,  because  you're  two  or  three  years  older 
than  he  is,  and  are  right  smart  at  things." 

"  Johnny  can  do  as  much  as  I  can,  come  now ;  and  I'm 
willing  to  share  with  him.  Tom,  he  and  I  will  have  to 

cD  * 

do  the  drudgery  anyhow. 

"  No  more  drudgery  for  me,"  put  in  Tom,  with  a  frown. 

"  See  here,"  said  Mont,  there  are  three  of  us  grown 
fellows  and  three  boys.  Arty  and  Barney  belong  together, 
and  Tom,  of  course,  joins  his  brother  Hi.  Let  Johnny's 
share  be  with  mine ;  that  will  make  three  equal  partners 
in  the  camp.  For  my  part,  I  am  willing  to  give  Johnny 
one-third  of  all  I  make.  How's  that,  youngster  ?  "  he  said 
to  Johnny,  whc  had  left  his  beau-stew  to  listen  to  this  in 
teresting  discussion. 

"  Oh,  that's  too  much,  Mont,"  said  the  lad,  gratefully 
K I  am  willing  to  work  for  my  board." 

"  And  clothes,"  added  Tom,  who  was  astonished  at 
Mont's  liberal  preposition. 

"  Yes,  and  clothes,''  said  Johnny,  who  had  by  this  tim« 


CR6  WBAIT  G  UL  CH.  207 

found  his  Council  Bluffs  outfit  necessary  to  cover  his 
growing  limbs. 

"  We  shall  all  become  covet  jus,  by  and  by,"  said  Mont, 
seriously,  "I want  to  make  a  bargain  now,  that  we  shall 
all  keep.  Barney,  you  and  Hi  ought  to  be  willing  tc 
divide  with  your  brothers  as  I  shall  divide  with  little 
Johnny  here.  I  suppose  you  are.  Then  we  shall  have 
only  three  shares,  though  each  of  us  will  have  to  divide 
with  one  of  the  boys  ;  that  is,  provided  we  have  anything 
to  divide.  For,  after  all,"  he  added  with  a  sober  smile, 
"  we  are  counting  our  chickens  before  they  are  hatched." 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Barney,  Arty  and  I  are  equal  part 
ners  with  each  other.  "We  settled  that  before  we  left 
home.  But  I  am  agreed  that  there  shall  be  three  equal 
shares  in  the  new  concern — yours,  Hi's,  and  mine.  Never 
mind  what  we  do  with  each  share  of  any  division  \ve  may 
make.  How's  that,  Hi  ?" 

"  It's  a  whack,"  said  Hi,  heartily.  So  the  partnership 
was  reorganized  and  the  partners  were  ready  for  work. 

They  had  "  panned  out "  enough  gold  from  a  dry 
gulch  near  by  to  assure  them  that  they  could  make  fair 
wages  there  for  a  time.  Most  of  the  mining  in  that 
region  was  done  by  digging  up  the  gold-bearing  earth  and 
carrying  it  to  the  river  bank,  where  it  was  washed  out 
with  pans,  cradles,  or  sluice-boxes,  and  the  gold  picked 
out.  The  commonest  way  was  to  carry,  or  "  pack,"  the 
earth  in  sacks  on  men's  backs,  and  then  "  pan  "  it  out  by 
the  river.  It  was  wearisome  work.  The  pan  was  partly 
filled  with  dirt,  then  filled  to  the  brim  with  water,  and 
twirled  around  and  round,  first  one  way,  then  another,  in 
the  hands  of  the  operator.  The  fine  earth  rose  to  the 
top,  and  was  carried  over  the  edge  of  the  pan  with  a 
peculiar  turn  of  the  wrist.  Water  was  added,  and  was 


208  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

whirled  off  again,  carrying  the  refuse  earth  with  it,  until 
nothing  was  left  in  the  bottom  of  the  pan  but  coarse  sand 
and  gold.  Sometimes — very  often,  indeed — after  all  the 
washing  and  watching,  there  was  nothing  found  in  tho 
bottom  but  coarse  black  sand.  But  a  miner  who  had  a 
shovel  and  a  pan  had  all  his  necessary  mining  tools.  "With 
these  on  his  back,  sometimes  carrying  a  pick,  he  traversed 
tho  country,  searching  for  good  diggings.  If  he  found 
a  poor  prospect,  he  journeyed  on  and  on  looking  for 
gold. 

On  the  very  first  day  after  the  boys  had  camped  on 
Chapparal  Creek  they  had  "  prospected  "  for  gold.  The 
precious  stuff,  in  lumps,  nuggets,  dust,  and  coarse  grains, 
was  already  familiar  to  their  sight.  They  had  sold  a 
quart  pot  full  of  coffee  for  an  ounce  of  golden  ore.  But 
they  had  never  dug  any  out  of  the  ground. 

It  was  an  exciting  time.  In  a  gulch  which  led  down 
from  the  mountains  and  opened  out  to  the  creek  was  a 
flat  place,  overgrown  with  brambles  and  small  shrubs  of 
chapparal — a  thorny  bush — and  cut  up  with  the  action  of 
winter  torrents.  This  had  once  been  the  bed  of  a  stream, 
but  only  a  slender  thread  of  water  crept  down  under  the 
rocks  which  had  fo-med  the  bottom  of  the  old  creek. 
The  top  soil  was  red  and  dry.  Beneath  it  grew  darker, 
brovi'iier,  and  more  gravelly.  This  they  shovelled  into 
pane,  and  lugged  to  the  edge  of  the  creek  below.  Mont 
and  Hi  each  took  a  pan  and  began  to  wash.  Hi  threw 
the  water  over  his  legs  instead  of  from  him,  amidst  the 
laughter  of  the  boys,  who  anxiously  looked  on.  Mont 
twirled  his  pajifnl  of  mud,  sand,  and  water,  quite  dexter 
ously,  flirting  off  the  superfluous  stuff  with  a  professiona 
skill  that  delighted  Arty,  who  secretly  hoped  that  Mont 
would  be  the  first  to  find  the  gold.  Hi  wabbled  his  par 


CROWBAIT  GULCH.  20ft 

about  clumsily,  and  soon  covered  his  legs  wit/i  imul  and 
water.  Tlie  turbid  currents  rippled  over  the  edge  of 
Mont's  pan  as  it  deftly  revolved  in  his  hands.  Arty 
thought  he  saw  the  shimmer  of  the  gold  in  the  cloudy 
mass. 

"  Heai  it  1  Hear  it ! "  shouted  Hi.  "  Hear  it  scratchiii* 
on  the  bottom  of  the  pan  ! " 

Sure  enough,  there  "vvas  a  rattle  of  something  in  the 
pan  different  from  the  steady  grinding  of  the  coarse  sand. 
Just  then,  Hi,  who  was  highly  excited,  twirled  his  pan  out 
of  his  hands,  and  it  fell,  amidst  a  chorus  of  "  Ohs '' 
from  the  boys,  bottom  up,  with  its  contents  spilled  all 
about.  Hi  impatiently  snatched  up  his  pan,  and  there,  in 
a  confused  heap  of  sand  and  gravel,  was  a  lump  of  bright, 
hard  and  shining  gold  !  With  a  great  hurrah,  Hi  seized 
it,  held  it  in  the  air,  cut  a  clumsy  caper,  and  cried : 

"  The  fust  gold  for  the  Fender  family  !  " 

It  was  a  smooth,  water-worn  lump,  of  a  dark  yellow 
color,  about  as  big  as  a  robin's  egg,  and  shaped  very  much 
like  a  pear  that  has  been  squeezed  nearly  flat. 

Before  the  boys  could  sufficiently  express  their  joy  over 
this  first  gold  of  their  own  finding,  Mont,  who  had  only 
looked  up  with  shining  eyes  as  he  kept  on  with  his  work, 
whirled  off  the  watery  contents  of  his  pan  and  showed  the 
heavier  mass  at  the  bottom.  There  was  about  a  quarter 
of  an  inch  of  black  sand,  and,  shining  on  the  surface, 
were  four  or  five  particles  of  gold.  One  was  almost  UP 
big  as  a  pea.  The  others  were  a  little  larger  than  pin- 
heads,  and  one  was  a  crumb  so  small  that  it  would  have 
been  lost  if  the  black  sand  had  not  shown  it  so  plainly. 

"  Sho  !  that  ain't  nothin',"  said  Tom,  contemptuously. 

"Nothin'l"  exclaimed  Hi,  with  equal  contempt, 
"  Mont's  got  .he  color  there,  and  moie  too.  That's  ovei 


210  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

three  dollars  ;  and  I  allow  one  dollar  a  pan  is  a  mighty 
big  thing.  Them  fellers  up  to  Forty  Thieves  said  thai 
twenty-five  cents  to  a  pan  was  good  diggin's." 

A  tall  miner  from  One  Eye,  who  was  on  his  way 
np  the  creek,  paused  as  he  went  by,  looked  on  curiously 
at  the  boys,  and  with  much  excitement  examined  the  half- 
washed  heaps  of  earth  on  the  ground. 

"  Right  smart  sort  of  a  scad  you've  thar,  strannger,"  he 
said,  looking  at  Hi's  find.  Must  be  more  whar  that  come 
from." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mont,  "  we  have  just  been  prospecting  up 
the  ravine.  Shouldn't  you  think  it  worth  while  to  follow 
it  up  ? " 

"  Wai,  I  reckon  yes.  Chispas  like  that  yere  don't  grow 
into  every  mud-hole.  Thar's  quartz  rock  whar  that  yere 
come  from.  But  that's  a  long  ways  from  yere."  And 
the  tall  stranger  took  his  way  on  up  the  stream,  quite  un 
concerned  at  the  sight  of  the  yellow  metal  which  had  so 
excited  our  boys. 

This  was  before  Rose  had  left  them.  Rose,  for  his  part? 
was  not  in  favor  of  creek-diggings.  He  had  heard  of 
"  crevicing  "  where  the  miners  dug  out  the  precious  stuff 
from  crevices  in  the  rocks,  after  tearing  away  the  earth ; 
and  nothing  but  "  crevicing  "  would  suit  him  now.  Ac 
cepting  the  advice  of  some  friendly  neighbors  at  Forty 
Thieves,  the  boys  formally  made  claim  to  the  dry  gulch, 
which  they  called  "  Hi's  Gulch  "  from  that  day.  They 
were  mortified,  some  weeks  later,  to  find  that  the  minera 
of  the  neighborhood  had  christened  this  "  Crowbait  Gulch," 
on  account  of  some  fancied  connection  which  old  Jim  had 
with  their  good  fortune.  Their  discomfiture  was  further 
increased  when  they  discovered  that  the  name  was  ex 
tended  over  their  camp  and  party,  so  that  they  were  called 


CEO WBAIT  OULOH.  211 

Che  Crowbaits,"  just  as  if  they  had  been  a  tribe  of  In- 
6  ans  with  that  singular  title. 

No  disrespect  was  meant  to  them,  however,  and  they 
thought  they  could  endure  being  known  as  "  The  Crow- 
baits  "  so  long  as  their  nearest  neighbors  were  content  to 
be  called  "  Forty  Thieves." 

Now,  at  last,  they  had  money  enough  to  buy  flour  and 
meat,  a  claim  that  was  as  good  as  a  mine,  and  a  tent  over 
their  heads.  Already  gleams  of  gold  shone  in  their  hands, 
and  rosy  visions  of  wealth  began  to  rise.  There  was  a 
tolerably  sure  prospect  for  the  future.  Their  trials  were 
over,  they  thought.  Their  riches  were  almost  on  the  sur 
face  of  the  ground. 

"Do  you  know  what  this  means,  Arty?"  said  Barnard 
one  day,  showing  him  a  crumb  of  gold. 

"Victuals  and  drink,  board  and  clothes/'  said  the 
matter-of-fact  youth. 

Barney  stooged  and  whisp^jsd  in  his  ear  3iie  wcixi— 
«  Home ' " 


TEE  BO  T  EMIG11ANTH 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

GOLD. 

IN  a  few  weeks  the  young  gold-ceekers  accumulated 
quite  a  stock  of  the  precious  ore.  They  could  hardly  be 
lieve  their  eyes  when  they  weighed  it  over  and  over  again, 
figured  up  the  value  of  it,  estimated  it,  and  speculated 
on  the  chances  of  there  being  more  like  it  in  their  gulch. 
It  was  a  marvellous  thing  that  they  should  actually  dig 
this  stuff  out  of  the  ground. 

But  there  it  was.  It  cost  them  many  a  weary  day,  and 
many  a  back-ache.  They  had  stuck  to  their  gold-pans; 
and  two  of  the  elder  members  of  the  party  washed  out 
the  earth,  which  the  others  dug  up  in  the  gulch,  and  car 
ried  in  sacks  to  the  brink  of  the  creek,  where  water  was 
plenty.  They  had  tried  to  make  use  of  the  little  stream 
in  the  bottom  of  the  gulch,  but  it  was  too  slight  to  afford 
water  enough ;  and  they  were  continually  digging  under 
it,  in  hopes  of  finding  rich  lumps,  or  "  chispas."  The 
younger  boys,  in  their  intervals  of  packing  the  gold-bear 
ing  earth  to  the  washing  party  by  the  creek,  often  washed 
out  a  panful  of  earth,  furtively  and  eagerly,  hoping  to  find 
a  lich  return  for  their  own  labor.  The  gold,  hoTever, 
was,  for  the  most  part,  in  small  bits, — like  a  very  coarse 
gunpowder, — with  occasional  flakes  as  fine  as  meal.  T^o 
feuch  lump  as  that  found  by  Hi  at  the  beginning  of  theii 
prospecting  could  be  discovered  in  the  gulch. 

The   diggings   extended,   so    far  as   they  could   judge 


GOLD.  213 

quite  across  the  flat  mouth  of  the  gulch  or  ravine,  "which 
was  four  or  five  hundred  feet  across,  and  outwards  to  a 
sharp  ledge,  which  ran  diagonally  across  it,  and  thence 
eloped  off  to  the  edge  of  the  creek.  This  ravine  narrowed 
lapidly,  and  ran  up  into  the  woody  ridge,  about  two  thou 
sand  feet  from  its  mouth.  So  the  gold-bearing  claim  of 
the  young  emigrants  was  a  V-shaped  patch  of  earth  aboul 
four  or  five  hundred  feet  wide,  and  tapering  off  to  a  point 
about  one  thousand  feet  from  the  mouth,  and  thence 
gradually  ascending  into  the  slope  of  the  ridge.  Mont 
and  Barney  made  a  very  systematic  "  prospecting  "  of  the 
claim  before  the  boys  decided  to  stay.  They  sank  deep 
holes  at  intervals  along  the  V  which  has  just  been  de 
scribed,  digging  sometimes  to  a  depth  of  six  or  eight  feet, 
before  they  reached  the  bottom  layer  of  coarse  black 
Band,  gravel,  and  rock.  The  top  surface  was  a  rich  soil, 
filled  with  vegetable  mold  and  roots ;  next  below  was  a 
clayey  loam,  and  then  the  gold-bearing  sand,  gravel,  and 
pebbles.  Below  all  was  an  uneven  layer  of  solid  rock, 
which  seemed  like  the  bottom  of  a  basin.  This  was  the 
bed-rock,  and  it  rose  gradually  on  either  side  of  the  ravine, 
until  its  nearly  perpendicular  sides  were  lost  in  the  abrupt 
slopes  which  formed  the  walls  of  the  gulch.  Under  thia 
rock,  which  could  be  broken  through  in  places,  no  gold 
was  ever  found.  The  bed-rock,  then,  was  like  a  dish  ;  it 
rested  on  a  layer  of  sterile,  yellow  gravel  and  clay.  Into 
its  platter-like  surface  the  rain  and  floods  of  ages  had 
cashed  down  the  soil,  gravel,  and  water- worn  gold  which 
had  once  been  scattered  among  the  hills.  Perhaps  thia 
gulch  had  been  the  outlet  of  an  ancient  river.  Here  the 
wash  of  the  mountains  harl  been  carried  down  by  freshets, 
The  sand  and  gravel  had  sunk  to  the  bottom,  resting  on 
the  bed-rock.  The  gold,  washed  out  of  ledges,  now  hid 


214  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

den  ill  the  hills,  had  been  worn  smooth  01  ;jito  fantastic 
forms  as  it  was  tumbled  along  in  the  current  and  over  the 
rocks ;  it  had  been  swept  into  the  river,  and  had  gone  to 
the  bottom  with  the  gravel  and  stone.  The  sand  had 
followed  it,  and  the  soft  soil  which  settled  in,  as  the  stream 
slackened  its  current  and  became  shallow,  filled  in  all  (ho 
interstices.  Strange  changes  took  place  in  the  surface  of 
the  country.  Hills  rose  up  where  none  had  been  before, 
and  grass,  shrubs,  and  trees  grew  luxuriantly  where  once 
a  river  had  flowed  swiftly  along.  In  Crowbait  Gulch,  for 
instance,  the  water  almost  ceased.  The  winter  rains 
washed  down  the  soil  from  the  surrounding  hills,  and 
covered  the  rocks,  the  gravel,  the  gold,  and  the  sand. 
Each  season  added  its  deposit  of  vegetable  loam,  and 
grass,  wild  roses,  chapparal,  and  manzanita  bushes  grew 
up,  as  if  to  hide  the  golden  secret  which  lay  buried  far 
beneath. 

Into  this  tangled  thicket,  broken  only  by  the  bed  of  a 
little  stream,  and  by  a  few  grassy  spaces,  came  the  young 
treasure-seekers.  Countless  ages  had  been  necessary  to 
prepare  for  them.  While  centuries  came  and  went, 
this  wonderful  work  had  gone  on  unseen.  The  gold  had 
been  rolled  and  tumbled,  age  after  age,  until  it  was 
rounded  or  smoothed  like  water-worn  pebbles,  and,  while 
generations  lived  and  died,  not  even  knowing  of  the  exist 
ence  of  this  wonder-land,  the  precious  ore,  for  which  men 
go  so  far  and  work  so  hard,  sunk  into  its  latest  resting-place, 
and  was  covered  from  all  human  eyes.  But  not  forevci, 
for  into  this  primeval  solitude,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  had 
come  the  new  masters  of  the  mine. 

The  gold  was  laid  in  Crowbait  Gulch  for  the  boy  emi 
grants.  But  it  was  not  yielded  up  to  them  without  a 
struggle.  Mont  dug  manfully,  Arthur  helping  him  at 


GOLD.  215 

,  and  at  times  packing  the  earth  and  gravel  to  Hi 
and  Barney,  who  squatted  all  day  long  by  the  bank  of  the 
stream,  twirling,  twirling  their  pans,  until  their  eyes  ached 
and  their  heads  reeled  with  the  constant  whirling  of 
water,  sand,  and  gravel — water,  sand,  and  gravel,  round 
and  round  again.  Not  every  panful  of  earth  held  gold. 
Very  often  it  happened  that  the  patient  labor  required  tc 
wash  out  a  pan  brought  nothing  but  disappointment. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  fascinating  business.  As  the  soil  dis 
appeared  over  the  edge  of  the  pan,  and  the  sand  began  to 
show  through  the  clearing  water,  the  washer  might  expect 
to  see  the  golden  gleam  of  the  ore.  Or  he  saw  nothing 
but  common  sand  and  gravel ;  and  he  began  again  with 
the  hope  that  never  died  in  him. 

Hi  grew  intensely  interested  in  the  work.  He  was 
continually  expecting  to  find  a  big  lump.  He  washed 
eagerly,  almost  feverishly.  If  he  found  a  few  rich  grains 
of  gold,  his  eyes  sparkled,  and  his  face  beamed  with 
pleasure.  If  his  pan  showed  nothing  but  barren  sand, 
his  countenance  changed,  and  he  scooped  up  a  fresh  pan 
ful  of  earth  with  a  mutter  of  impatience.  He  was  seldom 
rewarded  by  any  marvellous  return,  and  when  Barney,  one 
day,  washed  out  a  lump  of  gold  as  large  as  a  hickory  nut, 
Hi  broke  out  in  open  rebellion  against  his  "  luck ; "  and 
he  regarded  Barney's  find  with  eyes  of  covetousness,  as  if 
it  were  not  one  more  acquisition  to  the  common  stock. 
Then,  another  day,  when  Arthur,  uttering  a  cry  of  joy 
and  triumph,  dug  out  a  lump  of  gold  almost  as  big  as  that 
first  found  by  Hi,  he  threw  down  his  pan  with  an  excla 
mation  of  disgust  and  "allowed"  that  he  had  washed 
long  enough.  He  would  take  his  turn  at  digging.  And 
so  h(?  did,  until  after  a  while  Mont,  thinking  that  Hi  wai 


216  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

growing  thin  and  haggard  with  that  work,  exchanged 
places  with  him  again,  and  Hi  went  back  to  the  pan. 

One  day,  while  all  hands  were  hard  at  work  in  and 
around  the  gulch,  a  voice  up  the  thickly-wooded  hill  cried, 
"  Hillo,  you!  How  does  a  fellow  get  down  ? " 

"Slide,"  said  Mont,  with  a  smile,  as  he  straightened 
himself  up  from  his  toil  and  looked  up  the  ridge.  There 
was  a  crashing  and  rustling  in  the  brush,  and  presently  a 
small  cart  came  down  the  steep  slope,  backward,  and 
dragging  after  it  a  familiar  figure.  It  was  Bush.  Hia 
wagon  had  lost  its  cover,  and  he  was  partly  harnessed  in 
the  traces,  as  his  little  cow  had  been. 

Breaking  through  the  undergrowth,  and  half-riding, 
half-tumbling,  Bush  and  his  go-cart  reached  bottom  at 
last.  Bush  was  brown,  ragged,  and  as  cheerful  as  ever. 

"  Sh'd  think  you  might  hev'  a  road  for  visitors,  least 
ways,"  he  managed  to  say,  when  he  could  catch  his  breath. 
Then,  having  disengaged  himself  from  his  rude  harness, 
he  advanced  with  both  hands  outstretched,  cordially  ex 
claiming,  "  I'm  lookin'  for  the  honest  miners  of  Crowbait ; 
and  I  reckon  I've  struck  'em  at  last.  Shake  !  "  and  Bush 
warmly  greeted  his  old  companions. 

"  Where's  your  cow  ? "  asked  Barney,  when  their  former 
comrade  had  been  duly  welcomed. 

"  "Wai,  Suke,  you  see,  she  up  and  died  one  day.  After 
I  left  you  at  the  di  vide,  I  struck  off  toward  the  north  part 
of  the  Yuba,  and  a  powerful  rough  time  we  had  of  it. 
No  trail — rocks,  gulches  and  precipices,  till  you  can't 
rest.  Suke  was  more  or  less  alkalied  on  the  plains,  I 
reckon ;  and  the  pull  through  the  timber  was  t<x>  much 
for  her.  She  pegged  out  one  night,  and  the  coytes  picked 
her  bones  before  day  Poor  Suke  !  "  and  Bush  twinkled 


GOLD.  217 

a  genuine  tear  from  his  eye,  as  he  thought  of  his  vicione 
little  cow. 

"  Well !  how  are  you  making  it,"  he  continued,  briskly 

"  struck  it  rich  ? " 

"  Yes,  we're  doing  first-rate,"  answered  Barnard, 
heartily. 

"  Oh,  not  so  powerful  rich,  though,"  said  Hi,  with  an 
uneasy  glance  at  the  rest  who  were  gathered  around. 
"  J  ust  a  livin',  you  know." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  me,"  said  Bush  very 
frankly,  "  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  stay  here ;  I'm  just  a-pushiii' 
my  way  across  to  Dogtown,  where  I  hear  there's  great 
diggings.  Thought  I  would  take  Crowbait  on  my  way. 
I  seen  Rose  over  on  the  North  Yuba.  He  told  me  where 
you  were,  and  when  I  inquired  for  '  the  Boston  boys,'  I 
learned  you  was  Crowbait.  Crowbait  1  I  s'pose  that 
means  Old  Jim  ? " 

"Yes,"  laughed  Arty,  "poor  old  Jim,  who  ought  to 
have  died  on  the  plains,  has  lived  long  enough  to  give  us 
his  name.  How's  your  luck  at  mining,  Bush  ?  " 

"  Well,  just  ornery  ;  just  ornery,  boys,"  and  here  Bush 
fished  out  of  the  bottom  of  his  go-cart  a  canvas  shot-bag, 
which  he  untied,  and  poured  therefrom  into  his  gold-pan 
about  ten  ounces  of  gold-dust.  "  I  should  say  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars'  worth.  That's  all  I've  got  to 
show.  And  that  there  cow  of  mine  would  have  fetched 
almost  twice  as  much  if  she'd  lived." 

"  Where  did  you  pick  up  that  dust  ?  "  asked  Mont. 

"  Oh,  in  spots  ;  just  in  spots  ;  I  haven't  worked  reg'lar 
anywheres.  No  sooner  do  I  get  squared  off  for  a  wrastle 
with  the  pick  and  shovel  than  I  hear  of  a  better  placo> 

and  I  can't  stay." 
10 


218  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

u  Why,  you  ain't  earnin'  great  wages,"  said   Hi,  dis 
dainfully. 

"  Sure's  you  live,"  rejoined  Bush,  with  a  sigh.  Then, 
brightening  up,  as  if  recalling  a  pleasant  thought,  he 
said:  "And  do  you  believe  it,  boys,  a  feller  over  on 
Rattlesnake  JBar  had  the  cheek  to  offer  me  day  wages 
Fact,  he  did  ! "  he  added  at  the  expression  of  surprise  on 
the  boys'  faces. 

"  How  much  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Why,  twenty  dollars  a  day,  and  found.  Did  you  ever 
see  such  a  fool  ? " 

"  What !  so  much  ?  "  exclaimed  Arty. 

"  Much !  much  !  "  almost  screamed  Bush.  "  What  do 
you  take  me  for  ?  D'yer  s'pose  I'm  a  Josh  to  come  away 
over  here  across  the  plains  to  work  for  wages?  Not 
much,"  he  added  scornfully.  "  I'm  goin'  to  strike  for  a 
pile." 

But  Bush,  if  he  had  not  made  much  money,  had  been 
busy  enough  collecting  news  of  all  his  old  acquaintances. 
He  consented  to  stay  over  night  with  the  boys,  and  gave 
them  all  the  information  he  had  concerning  the  country 
and  the  people  in  it.  Philo  Dobbs,  Nance,  and  her 
mother,  were  over  near  Sable  Mountain.  When  last 
heard  from  they  were  stopping  in  a  camp  of  Maine  men, 
whose  little  settlement  and  diggings  were  called  Bangor. 
Dobbs  had  "  struck  it  rich  ;  "  then  he  had  invested  it  in 
gold  in  a  new  claim,  and  had  lost  it,  and  all  this  had 
happened  in  a  week  or  two.  Messer  was  still  "  down  on 
his  luck,"  and  was  over  in  the  San  Joaquin  country 
somewhere. 

"  Then  there  was  that  Dot-and-carry-one  chap,"  added 
Uueh. 

"  Yes ! "  exclaimed  Arthur,  "  Bill  Bunce." 


GOLD.  21ft 

"  Bunco  was  his  name.  But  he  is  '  Dot-and-cairy-one ' 
in  places  where  he  stays  now.  '  Dot,'  for  short.  I  should 
say.  I  heard  of  him.  He's  down  on  the  next  branch  to 
this,  making  money  hand  over  fist.  A  fool  for  luck,  I 
say.  Not  any  for  me." 

Bush  gave  the  boys  a  great  many  valuable  hints  about 
mining.  Though  he  had  not  been  himself  successful,  he 
knew  how  to  instruct  others.  Particularly  he  urged  them 
to  get  a  rocker  ;  it  would  wash  as  fast  with  one  man  to 
run  it  as  ten  men  could  with  pans.  A  rocker,  or  cradle, 
he  showed  them,  was  merely  an  oblong  box,  open  at  one 
end,  and  made  to  rattle  like  a  winnowing  machine  by 
shaking.  In  this  the  earth  was  washed,  precisely  as  in  a 
pan,  but  with  much  greater  speed  and  thoroughness. 

The  boys  told  Bush  that  they  had  resolved  to  stay 
where  they  were  all  winter.  He  shook  his  head  at  thia 
and  said : 

"I  never  have  seen  any  man  that  has  been  in  thia 
country  much  longer  than  we  have.  Nobody's  been  here 
over  one  winter,  's  far's  I  know.  But  the  Injuns,  they  say 
the  snow's  right  deep  up  this  far  in  winter.  If  you  winter 
it  here,  you  may  as  well  get  up  a  log-house.  You'll 
freeze  in  this  cloth  tent.  It's  gettin'  on  to  November 
now,  and  the  nights  are  f allish  already." 

This  was  a  new  view  of  the  situation  to  the  boys,  to 
whom  the  climate  was  utterly  unknown,  and  about  which 
they  had  taken  no  thought. 

Bush  pushed  on  merrily  next  morning,  and,  as  the  boya 
watched  him  on  his  way  up  the  branch,  shoving  his  go-cart 
before  him,  he  stopped  in  the  midst  of  his  song  and  called 
back: 

"How  about  grub?" 

"Plenty  for  the  present,''  answered  Mont. 


220  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

"  Lay  in  enough  before  snow  flies,  or  you'.ll  get  pinched 
before  spring.  There's  traders  down  to  Nye's  Ranch 
and  that's  your  place  to  buy." 

"With  this  farewell  warning  and  advice,  Bush  waded 
deliberately  into  the  stream,  forded  it,  poured  the  watei 
out  of  his  broken  boots,  whistled  cheerily  to  himself,  and 
disappeared  up  th3  bank. 


HOUSE-BUILDING. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

HOUSE-BUILDING. 

To  build  a  house  without  lumber  was  the  next  task 
which  our  boys  were  to  attempt.  The  Mexicans,  com 
monly  called  "  Greasers,"  who  had  set  up  a  jig-saw  in  their 
saw-pit  down  the  river,  asked  such  enormous  prices  for  the 
few  boards  and  planks  which  they  produced,  that  the  boys 
were  at  once  discouraged  from  buying  of  them.  Lumber 
was  in  demand  for  cradles,  sluice-boxes,  and  other  mining 
appliances,  and  the  green  stuff  got  out  at  Greaser  Town 
was  all  that  could  be  obtained  in  that  region  of  the  country. 

But  the  lads  were  bent  on  having  a  house  over  their 
Leads.  They  must  build  it  themselves.  They  had  no 
money  to  pay  laborers  with,  for  their  little  accumulation, 
handsome  as  it  was  to  them,  would  not  go  far  towards 
hiring  assistance,  even  if  there  had  been  men  to  hire. 

But  timber  was  growing  on  the  hills  near  them,  and 
they  had  nearly  tools  enough  to  build  a  cabin  with, 
and  what  they  did  not  have,  their  good-natured  neighbors 
at  Forty  Thieves  were  willing  to  lend.  Choosing  out  the 
clean,  slender  pines  and  firs  of  the  forest  above,  the  young 
settlers  cut  down  enough  to  make  the  walls  of  their  hut. 
Trimmed  and  cut  into  lengths,  these  were  "  snaked  "  out 
of  the  woods  by  their  single  yoke  of  cattle,  now  brought 
into  use  once  more.  Then,  a  suitable  underpinning  of 
solid  logs  having  been  prepared,  the  tree-trunks  were 
notched  at  the  ends,  so  as  to  fit  into  each  other. 


222  THE  BOT  EMIGRANTS. 

It  was  heavy  work  handling  these  logs,  and  the  yoangei 
boys  were  almost  in  despair  when  they  reflected  that  the 
upper  part  of  the  cabin  walls  must  be  made  by  hoisting 
the  sticks  to  a  height  above  their  heads.  But  Mont  soon 
showed  them  that,  by  raising  one  end  of  a  log  on  the 
unfinished  structure,  and  sliding  the  other  end  np  on  an 
inclined  stick  of  timber,  each  timber  went  into  its  place, 
and  the  walls  steadily  arose  until  the  pen,  as  it  seemed  to  be, 
was  eight  logs  high,  and  just  about  as  many  feet  from  the 
ground.  This  was  the  work  of  days,  and  the  boys  sur 
veyed  the  result  of  their  labors  with  admiration. 

"Gracious  goodness!"  exclaimed  Arthur,  "we've  for 
gotten  the  doors  and  windows." 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  Mont,  with  a  comical  smile 
"  How  shall  we  manage  to  put  them  in,  now  that  the  walla 
are  up  ? " 

"Will  the  whole  thing  have  to  come  down  again?" 
asked  the  boy  anxiously. 

Hi  burst  out  laughing,  and  said : 

"  Mont  knows  a  thing  or  two.  All  we  have  to  do  now, 
Arty,  is  to  cut  one  hole  for  the  door,  and  a  couple  more 
for  the  windows." 

"  But  the  logs  will  all  fall  out  if  they  are  cut  in  two  in 
the  middle." 

"We  chink  up  the  logs  first,  Arty,"  explained  Mont, 
"so  that  they  cannot  fall  apart,  then  we  saw  out  the 
openings." 

"Where  did  you  learn  all  that?  In  Boston?"  de 
manded  Arthur. 

"  Oh,  he's  got  a  head  onto  him,  he  has,"  murmured  Hi 
with  an  admiring  look  at  Mont,  who,  somehow,  was  the 
"  boss  carpenter  "  of  the  house  in  the  wilderness. 

Hi,  it  must  be  confessed,  did  not  take  kindly  to  house 


HOUSE-BUILDING.  223 

building.  He  found  the  work  very  "  disagreeable,"  as  ho 
often  remarked.  He  had  chopped  timber  in  Sugar  GroA« 
times  enough  before  now ;  but  this  labor  he  thought  was 
unprofitable.  It  interfered  with  mining.  He  looked 
longingly  at  the  neglected  pans  and  picks  while  he  was 
hauling  logs,  hewing  timber,  and  splitting  out  "shakes  " 
for  the  covering  of  their  roof.  And  one  moonlight  night, 
Mont,  hearing  a  strange  noise  outside  as  he  awoke  from  a 
deep  sleep,  crept  out  and  saw  Hi  making  a  pan  of  earth 
by  the  side  of  the  creek,  Pete  sitting  by  on  his  haunches, 
an  interested  spectator. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter,  Hi  ? "  asked  Mont ;  "  haven't 
you  done  work  enough  to  sleep  on  ?  " 

Hi  looked  a  little  confused  and  startled,  and  replied  : 

"  'Pears  like  I  couldn't  sleep  to-night.  I  dreamed  of 
finding  a  big  chunk  of  gold  up  there  by  that  there  bowl 
der.  So  I  thought  I'd  come  out  and  shake  the  old  pan 
for  a  while." 

Mont  put  his  hand  kindly  on  the  young  man's  shoulder 
and  said : 

"  My  dear  old  fellow,  I  am  afraid  you  are  getting  ava 
ricious.  Don't  let  us  try  to  be  rich  in  a  hurry.  You  will 
get  sick  with  overwork  and  anxiety,  and  then  where  are 
you  ? " 

Hi,  with  a  little  heat  of  manner,  and  growing  red  in 
the  moonlight,  said : 

"  I  allow  my  health's  my  own.  I  put  my  gold  into  the 
company,  don't  I  \  " 

"  But  that  isn't  the  question,  Hi.  It  makes  me  sorry  to 
see  you  growing  so  careworn  and  old  before  your  time. 
We  have  a  good  claim,  and  nobody  can  take  it  from  us — " 

"  I'd  like  to  see  'em  try  it  on !  "  broke  in  Hi. 

"  And,  as  I  was  saying,"  resumed  Mont,  "  nobody  can 


224  THE  BO  7  EMIGRANTS. 

take  it  from  us.  We  shall  have  it  in  the  spring.  We 
can  live  comfortable  until  then.  What's  the  use  of  being 
in  a  hurry  ? " 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  Hi,  almost  with  horror.  "  Knock 
off  washin'  until  spring  ? "  Not  if  I  know  it ! "  and  he 
shook  his  pan  with  new  energy. 

"  Hillo !  what's  up  now  ? "  and  as  Barney  asked  that 
question,  he  struggled  out  of  the  tent,  half  awake,  and 
with  a  blanket  clinging  about  him. 

"  Here  you,  Crogan,"  cried  Arty  from  within,  "  bring 
back  my  blanket ! " 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing,"  said  Mont,  cheerily  ;  "  only  Hi  ha. 
had  a  dream  of  gold,  and  he  has  come  out  to  find  it  in  hii 
pan.  I  followed  to  see  it  come  true." 

"  Did  it  come  true  ? "  asked  Barney,  grimly. 

"Not  yet."  ' 

"  And  it's  a  nice  time  of  night  for  you  to  be  out  here 
washing  gold,"  said  Arty,  who  had  crawled  out  into  the 
moonlight,  and  was  trying  to  read  the  time  on  Barney's 
white-faced  watch.  "  Past  two  o'clock,  as  I  live !  Hi 
Fender !  you're  as  crazy  as  a  loon  !  I'm  ashamed  of  ye !  " 

"Well,  if  you  are  all  going  to  make  a  row  about  it,  I'll 
go  back  to  bed."  And  back  to  bed  he  went,  saying  to 
himself,  "I  allow  that  Arty's  just  about  half  right,  any 
how." 

Notwithstanding  Hi's  discontent  the  cabin  rose.  Light 
spruce  poles  formed  the  rafters  of  the  roof,  and  these 
were  covered  with  shingles,  or  "  shakes,"  split  out  from 
the  beautiful  white  pine  of  the  region.  Rudely  hewn 
timbers  supported  the  floor,  which  was  made  of  thick,  ob 
long  I  locks,  called  "  puncheons,"  split  from  the  short 
lengths  of  oak  which  had  been  chopped  in  the  forest.  A 
bole  was  cut  in  the  rear,  and  a  huge  fire-place  of  stone  wai 


HOUSE-BUILDING.  225 

built  in  it,  with  a  chimney  of  bricks  piled  "  cob-house 
fashion,"  and  plastered  with  mud,  leading  above  the  oof 
Two  openings,  protected  by  cloth  from  their  wagon-cover 
furnished  light  and  air.  Boards,  sparingly  taken  from 
their  wagon-box,  furnished  a  door  and  material  for  a  table 
and  bench  within.  The  chinks  between  the  logs  were 
filled  in  with  sticks,  dry  grass,  and  clay.  The  house  was 
done,  and  Arty,  having  lettered  the  name  on  a  spare  scrap 
of  canvas,  and  fastened  it  to  the  front  of  this  new  castle 
christened  it  "  Boston,"  amidst  the  applause  of  his  com 
rades.  Hi  meditatively  cocked  his  head  on  one  side  and 
said: 

"  I  never  did  like  Boston  for  a  name  ;  but  it's  enough 
Bight  better  than  Crowbait." 

While  they  were  yet  admiring  the  general  effect  of  theii 
new  home,  a  lame  man,  wearing  a  slouched  felt  hat,  a  red 
shirt,  and  a  pair  of  canvas  trowsers,  slid  painfully  down 
the  bank,  dropped  his  kit  of  mining  tools  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  and  said  :  "  Mornin.' " 

Arthur  and  Tom  looked  at  him  with  amazement,  and 
Barney,  with  elaborate  politeness,  said : 

"  Good-morning  to  you,  Mr.  William  Bunce." 

"  Knowed  you'd  know  me  1  Yes,  I  knowed  it,"  and 
Mr.  William  Bunce  rubbed  his  game  leg,  as  if  he  thought 
it  a  great  joke.  "Fixed  up  mighty  comfortable  here, 
D'ye  allow  to  winter  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  allow  to  winter  here,"  replied  Hi,  with  some 
aaperity.  "  What  mischief  are  you  up  to  now  ?  " 

"  See  here,  strannger,"  replied  Bunce,  "  I  ain't  up  to  no 
mischief,  leastways  so  long  as  I'm  civil  spoken  to.  It  a 
the  boss  of  this  ranch  I  want  to  see — Boston,  is  it  ?  "  and 
the  man  looked  curiously  at  Arty's  sign.  "  I  was  told  if 
was  Crowbait." 
10* 


226  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

"  Who  told  you  it  was  Crowbait  ? "  demanded  Barnard 
"  The  man  with  the  go-cart.     I  disremember  his  name 


"  Bush  ? " 

"  That's  the  name.  1  kncwed  it  war  something  to  dc 
with  woods." 

"  Well,  what's  your  will  with  us?  "  asked  Barnard. 

The  man  fumbled  about  his  shirt,  and  took  out  a  buck 
skin  bag,  in  which  was  a  handful  of  gold-dust  and  a 
greasy  wad  of  paper.  Smoothing  the  paper  on  his  knee, 
he  read  from  it  in  silence,  lifted  up  his  head,  and  said  : 

"  Thar  war  a  man." 

"  Well,"  said  Mont,  for  Bunce  had  stopped. 

"  Whar's  the  kid  ? "  he  asked. 

"Who?     Johnny?" 

"  That's  what  you  call  him." 

Johnny  was  called  from  the  gulch,  where  he  was  ex 
perimenting  with  pick  and  shovel.  As  soon  as  he  saw 
Bunce  he  shrunk  back  and  took  shelter  behind  Mont. 
Bunce  grinned  and  began  again: 

"  Thar  war  a  man.  His  name  war  Jenness,  M.D.  Least 
ways,  that  thar  war  on  his  shingle  in  Lick  Springs,  Yer- 
million  County,  Illinoy.  He  had  a  widder  sister  a-livin' 
in  Ogle  County,  Illinoy,  likewise.  She  up  and  died, 
leavin'  a  little  boy.  Jenness,  M.D.,  I  allow  he  war  the 
boy's  gardeen.  He  got  the  boy.  Now  thar  war  property 
— now  much  I  never  heerd  tell ;  it  war  the  kid's  if  he 
lived,  and  Jenness's  if  he  didn't.  Do  ye  begin  to  sarvy  ? " 

His  listeners  nodded  assent. 

"  In  course  you  see,  then,  that  that  thar  little  kid  is  the 
ooy.  Jenness,  M.D.— well,  he  ain't  no  doctor,  l«astwaya 
not  more'n  a  hoss  doctor — Jenness,  he  tole  me  and  Epb 
Mullet,  if  we'd  take  the  boy,  like  we  war  agoin'  to  Cali 


SOUSE-BUILDING.  221 

forny,  and  get  shut  of  him  somehow,  he'd  gin  us  our  out 
fit.  So  he  did." 

"  And  you  got  your  California  outfit  for  promising  to 
make  away  with  this  boy,  did  you  ? "  asked  Mont,  with  a 
shudder. 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it.  But,  mind  ye,  we  only 
got  part  of  the  outfit ;  it  war  only  a  matter  of  a  hundred 
dollars  or  so.  There  war  two  of  us." 

"  The  smaller  the  price,  the  meaner  you  were,"  ex 
claimed  Barney,  with  a  great  glow  of  indignation. 

"  Thar  wan't  no  crime.  Ton's  the  kid  ;  I've  nothin' 
ag'in'  him.  He's  alive  and  kickin' ;  but  Jenness,  M.D., 
he  thinks  he's  dead." 

"  Can  you  give  us  any  clue  by  which  we  can  ascertain 
this  boy's  parentage  ? "  asked  Mont. 

"  Which  ? "  said  the  man,  with  a  vacant  stare. 

"  Can  you  tell  us  how  we  can  find  out  the  boy's  real 
name,  and  the  names  of  his  father  and  mother?" 

"  All  I  know  is — Jenness,  M.D.,  Lick  Springs,  Vermil- 
lion  County,  Illinoy.  Kid's  mother  was  in  Ogle  County, 
some  such  name  as  Brownbecker — " 

"  Bluebaker !  "  exclaimed  Hi. 

"  You've  struck  it,  strannger.  Bluebaker  is  the  word,  t 
know'd  it  had  a  blue  or  a  brown  onto  it." 

More  than  this  they  could  not  extract  from  Bunce. 
His  information  was  limited,  or  he  was  determined  to  tell 
no  more.  Here  was  enough  to  begin  an  inquiry  upon,  at 
any  rate.  Johnny  had  never  heard  the  name  of  Blue- 
baker.  He  had  been  called  "  Johnny  "  always.  He  wag 
not  at  all  moved  when  Arty  said  that  he  might  become 
heir  to  something  handsome,  by  and  by. 

Bunce  listened  to  the  questions  and  comments  ot  the 
party,  and  then  began  again. 


THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

"  That  war  a  boss." 

He  paused,  but  nobody  made  reply,  and  he  went  on : 

"  A  yaller  boss." 

"  A  sorrel,"  corrected  Barney,  "  with  a  raw-hide  braided 
halter  about  his  neck."  And  here  he  drew  that  article  ol 
horse-gear  from  a  heap  of  stuff  on  the  ground. 

The  man's  eyes  flashed  recognition  when  he  saw  the 
riata,  and  Barnard  continued  : 

"  This  was  on  the  sorrel  horse  which  was  ridden  into  our 
camp  near  Thousand  Spring  Valley,  and  the  man  that 
was  shot  off  that  horse  had  another  just  like  it  around  our 
old  Jim's  neck.  He  was  a  horse-thief." 

The  man  never  winced.  He  said,  "  Strannger,  that  yaller 
boss  war  mine." 

"  How  came  he  in  our  camp  ?  " 

"  He  war  stole  from  me  in  Echo  Canon.  I  tracked  him 
into  Salt  Lake  City;  thar  I  lost  him." 

u  How  did  you  know  we  knew  anything  about  him  ? " 
asked  Mont. 

The  man  turned  uneasily  on  the  stump  where  he  sat 
and  said,  "  The  go-cart  man  told  me  you  had  a  valler 
boss." 

"  So  we  had." 

"JZadf* 

"  Yes,  had"  answered  Barney,  impatiently.  "  That 
yellow  horse,  as  you  call  him,  was  drowned  in  Seven  Mile 
Canon  on  the  day  of  the  great  cloud-bust." 

The  man  slowly,  as  if  in  a  deep  thought,  rolled  up  his 
greasy  and  crumpled  paper,  put  it  in  his  buckskin  pouch, 
drew  the  strings  tight,  put  it  in  his  bosom,  stood  up  and 
said  : 

"  Powerful  nice  weather  we're  bavin'  now.  Sure  aboui 
that  yaller  boss  2  " 


HOUSE-BUILDING.  220 

"Sure.  He  was  drowned  with  half  of  Rose's  cattle," 
»aid  Mont. 

The  man  turned  to  go,  gathering  up  his  pack  with  an 
air  of  deep  dejection. 

"  Give  us  that  paper  1  "  said  Arty,  eagerly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  let  us  have  the  memorandum,"  said  Mont 
"  It  will  help  us  find  out  what  we  want  to  know  about 
Johnny." 

"  It's  got  writin'  onto  the  other  side  of  it,"  said  Bill 
Bunce.  "  Private  writin'  that  I  can't  spare  to  give  away. 
Write  down  what  I've  told  ye — Jemiess,  M.D.,  Lick 
Springs,  Vermillion  County,  Illinoy.  Kid's  mother  was 
a  Brownpecker.  Ogle  County,  likewise." 

"  And  that's  the  way  you  leave  this  matter,  after  you 
have  confessed  that  you  agreed,  for  money,  to  put  this 
little  chap  out  of  the  way,"  said  Barney,  bitterly. 

The  man  turned  and  looked  at  him  with  a  dim  gleam 
of  fire  in  his  bleary  eye,  and  said,  "  What  are  ye  goin'  to 
do  about  it  2  " 

So  saying,  he  stumped  along  the  trail,  perpetually  roll 
ing  over  on  one  side,  as  if  to  pick  up  something  which  ho 
as  continually  changed  his  mind  not  to  take.  And  so  he 
rocked  irresolutely  out  of  sight 


230  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTEE  XXL 

AN    EXPEDITION,    AND    WHAT   CAM/C   OF   IT. 

WINTER  came  suddenly.  Early  in  November,  the  boys 
climbing  the  long  hill  near  their  camp,  could  see  that  the 
sharp  peaks  of  the  Sierra,  to  the  eastward,  were  covered 
with  snow.  The  lower  hills,  or  foot-hills,  where  they  lived, 
were  brown  and  sere  ;  and  looking  westward,  the  Sacra 
mento  Yalley  was  golden  yellow  in  the  warm  sunlight,  or 
violet  and  purple,  streaked  with  gray,  as  the  cloudy  days 
came  on.  There  were  one  or  two  rainy  days,  during  which 
the  creek  rose  rapidly,  and  the  young  miners  improved 
the  opportunity  to  wash  out  a  good  deal  of  loose  dirt  from 
their  claim.  Then  came  a  sharp  frost.  The  hills  between 
the  camp  and  the  high  Sierra  were  white  with  snow,  save 
where  the  tall  pines  stood  in  solemn  rows  up  and  down 
these  billowy  slopes. 

One  morning,  Arthur,  shivering  with  cold  and  gaping 
with  a  great  show  of  sleepiness,  sat  up  in  his  bunk,  and 
looking  over  to  the  window,  which  was  only  partly  shield 
ed  by  a  bit  of  canvas,  exclaimed:  "Halloo,  boys!  it's 
wiowi'.g!  'J 

They  looked  out  and  saw  that  the  ground  had  disappeared 
oeneath  a  soft,  fleecy  mantle.  Woolly  rolls  of  snow  hung 
on  the  edges  of  the  cradle  by  the  creek.  The  pine-boughs 
bent  under  their  moist  burden,  and  the  cow  stood  chewing 
her  cud  disconsolately  under  the  shelter  of  a  big  hemlock 
tree  near  the  cabin. 


AN  EXPEDITION.  231 

Mont  looked  grave,  and  said:  "  I  must  start  for  Nye's 
Ranch  this  very  day." 

Now  Nye's  Ranch  was  at  the  junction  of  the  Tuba  and 
Feather  rivers,  fifty  miles  away.  It  was  the  nearest  depot 
for  supplies,  though  a  trading-post  had  been  opened  at 
Inskip,  twenty  miles  north-east  from  Crowbait  Gulch. 
But  the  Inskip  trader  brought  his  goods  from  Nye's  Ranch, 
and  his  prices  were  enormous.  Besides  this,  the  company  of 
Mexicans  at  Greasertown  had  promised  to  pay  three  hun 
dred  dollars,  in  gold  dust,  for  the  ox  and  cow,  the  survivors 
of  the  teams  of  the  young  emigrants  ;  and  part  of  the  bar 
gain  included  the  delivery  of  the  cattle  to  the  purchasers. 

It  had  been  agreed  that  Mont  should  go  to  Nye's  Ranch, 
riding  old  Jim,  and  deliver  the  cattle  at  Greasertown  on 
his  way  down.  The  Spanish  cattle  of  the  country  were 
thought  good  enough  to  slaughter  for  fresh  beef.  Ameri 
can  cattle  were  too  valuable  to  be  killed.  It  was  more 
economical  to  sell  them  and  buy  the  meat  needed  for  win 
ter  supplies.  Flour,  bacon,  beans,  and  dried  apples  were 
required  from  Nye's  Ranch  ;  and  it  was  decided  that  nc 
more  time  should  be  lost  in  getting  them.  Mont  could 
drive  the  cattle  down  the  creek  and  get  the  money  and 
push  on  into  the  valley,  buy  the  provisions,  and  pack  them 
home  on  old  Jim. 

The  snow  disappeared  before  the  sun  when  it  came  out, 
that  afternoon ;  and  when  Mont  started  on  his  journey, 
which  was  not  until  the  next  morning,  the  air  was  cleai 
and  bracing,  and  the  sky  was  brilliant  with  sunlight.  Thfi 
boys  saw  him  ride  down  the  winding  trail  with  real  sor 
row,  for  he  drove  before  him  their  old  friends,  Molly  and 
Star.  These  faithful  creatures  had  been  their  sole  reliance 
during  the  latter  part  of  their  journey;  and  though  the 
cattle  were  no  longer  useful  to  them,  now  that  they  were 


2^2  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

camped  for  the  winter,  it  was  hard  to  part  with  them.  If  il 
had  not  been  hard,  Mont  would  have  begun  his  journey  to 
Nye's  Ranch  much  earlier.  As  it  was,  Arty  and  Johnny 
looked  down  the  trail  with  tearful  eyes,  when  Mont,  turn 
ing  in  his  saddle,  shouted  back :  "  Don't  eat  up  all  the 
gold  while  I  am  gone." 

Even  Mont  was  a  little  heavy  at  the  heart  when  he  finally 
left  the  cattle  at  Greasertown,  and  rode  away  with  his  gold 
dr.st  stowed  in  a  belt  about  his  waist  and  under  his  flannel 
shirt.  He  had  a  long  and  solitary  ride  before  him  ;  he  waa 
loaded  with  what  seemed  to  him  a  great  deal  of  money, 
and,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  Council  Bluffs,  he  waa 
separated  from  his  comrades. 

The  rocky  trail  soon  left  the  creek  and  entered  a  wagon- 
track,  which,  though  it  now  seemed  like  a  novelty  of 
civilization  to  Mont,  who  had  been  living  in  the  woods, 
was  not  so  broad  a  trail  as  that  in  which  he  had  traveled 
across  the  continent.  His  spirits  rose  as  old  Jim  loped 
gallantly  on  the  trail,  jingling  the  slender  camp  equipage 
tied  behind  the  saddle,  as  he  went.  The  air  was  abso 
lutely  hushed,  and  the  wintry  sun  rained  down  its  needles 
of  light  into  motionless  clumps  of  pines  and  spruces 
grouped  in  the  narrow  valley.  On  either  side  the  hills 
rose  up  sharp  and  clear  in  outline  against  the  sky,  their 
rocky  ridges  dotted  with  a  few  trees  along  their  lofty 
crowns.  Occasionally  a  hare  darted  across  the  trail  and 
was  lost  in  the  tangled  ferns,  or  a  gray  gopher,  with  tail 
on  end,  drifted  along  ahead,  like  a  leaf  blown  by  the 
wind.,  and  suddenly  disappeared.  A  blue  jay  screamed 
and  scolded  from  the  tall  top  of  a  madrona  tree,  and  a 
solitary  crow,  flapping  its  way  through  the  crystal  atmos 
phere  overhead,  croaked  and  cawed,  and  then  seemed  ta 
melt  away  into  the  hills  of  I  rown  and  green. 


AN  EXPEDITION.  233 

Just  before  Scotchman's  Valley  opens  out  into  the  val 
ley  of  the  Sacramento,  the  walls  on  either  side  rise  up  to  a 
great  height.  On  the  south  the  ridge  is  over  two  thousand 
feet  high,  and  is  very  steep  and  rugged,  except  at  a  point 
near  the  base,  where  the  sharp  descent  widens  out  into  a 
shoulder,  or  bench.  On  this  bench,  about  two  hundred 
feet  from  the  bottom,  were  perched  two  or  three  minei  s' 
cabins.  Mont,  when  he  reached  this  spot,  looked  at  the 
Aabinis  as  he  rode  down  the  trail,  and,  wondering  why  the 
builders  had  chosen  such  a  lofty  spot  for  their  homes,  was 
tempted  to  climb  the  narrow  trail  and  ask  for  lodging  for 
the  night,  for  it  was  now  late  in  the  day.  But,  reflecting 
that  people  in  these  parts  were  unprepared  to  take  in 
strangers,  though  all  were  hospitable,  he  went  on  through 
the  narrow  pass,  entered  a  round,  flat  valley  which 
dropped  gently  to  the  west,  and,  between  the  openings  ir 
the  groves  of  live-oaks  he  saw  the  Sacramento  Valley, 
laced  with  streams ;  Slitter's  Buttes,  a  noble  group  oi 
mountains,  in  the  midst ;  and  far  away  the  sharp  summits 
of  the  coast  range,  pink  and  white  against  the  evening 
sky. 

The  young  man  made  his  lonely  camp  in  a  clump  of 
dwarf  pines,  as  night  came  on,  and  built  his  fire,  toasted 
his  bacon,  made  a  pot  of  coffee,  and,  slicing  off  a  cut 
from  the  loaf  which  careful  Arthur  had  put  up  for  him. 
he  ate  his  frugal  supper,  with  loving  thoughts  of  the  boys 
at  home.  The  New  England  home  seemed  too  far  away 
ao  »T  to  be  so  much  in  his  thoughts  as  the  rude  hut  on  the 
brink  of  Chaparral  Creek ;  and  as  Mont  hugged  himself 
in  his  warm  blanket,  to  sleep  bene  th  the  frosty  sky, 
Barney  Crogan,  Hi,  and  the  boys  came  and  went  in  his 
dreams. 

Following  the  course  cf  the  Feather  and  Yuba  rivera, 


234  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

the  streams  of  trade  and  travel,  which  had  already  begun 
to  move  in  this  new  land,  met  on  a  flat  and  willow- grown 
angle  where  Nye's  Ranch  had  been  built.  Here  the  Rio 
de  lae  Plumas,  or  Feather  River,  received  the  i'uba 
River,  and  flowed  on  to  join  the  Sacramento.  Here, 
once  a  week,  came  a  small  steamboat  from  Sacramento, 
sen  e  fifty  or  sixty  miles  to  the  southward  ;  and  here  were 
two  or  three  trading-posts,  built  of  sycamore  logs  and 
roofed  over  with  canvas. 

Mont  had  struggled  across  a  wet  and  muddy  plain,  in 
tersected  with  a  labyrinth  of  small  sloughs  and  streams. 
Fie  found  the  little  settlement  a  rude  and  noisy  place. 
The  ground  was  cut  up  with  the  tracks  of  many  wagons, 
and  trampled  into  a  sticky  paste  by  the  feet  of  innumer 
able  mules,  whose  braying  filled  the  air.  Miners,  red- 
shirted  and  rough-bearded,  were  coming  and  going.  The 
traders  were  excitedly  rushing  about,  selling  their  goods 
and  sweeping  in  the  gold-dust.  This  precious  stuff  was 
weighed  in  scales,  after  being  rudely  fingered  over  on  the 
board  counter,  to  scan  the  grains  separately ;  and  Mont 
was  amazed  to  see  how  carelessly  the  gold  was  handled. 
Apparently,  there  was  no  coin  or  paper  money,  but  every 
body  had  a  buskskin  pouch  or  a  canvas  shot-bag,  in  which 
the  golden  dust  was  kept.  Now  and  again  some  man 
from  "  the  Bay,"  as  San  Francisco  was  called,  exhibited  a 
huge  rude  coin,  valued  at  fifty  dollars,  and  popularly 
known  as  a  "  slug."  This  was  stamped  with  the  name  of 
the  firm  who  issued  it,  and  very  readily  passed  for  the 
amount  it  represented. 

The  little  plaza,  about  which  the  settlement  was  flung 
like  a  strange  and  tangled  dream,  was  crowded  with  men, 
wagons,  cattle  and  mules.  A  few  miserable  Indians, 

O  "  * 

gquatted  around  a  big  sycamore,  looked  on  without  mani 


AN  EXPEDITION  23-n 

festing  the  least  interest  in  the  scene  ;  ard  a  grizzl}  bear, 
caged  in  a  canvas-covered  inclosure,  or  corral,  an.l  ex- 

O  *  ' 

hibited  for  one  dollar  a  sight,  added  to  the  confusion  by 
uttering  an  occasional  howl.  A  tent,  with  "  Freeman's 
Express  "  painted  on  its  roof,  first  attracted  Mont's  atten 
tion,  and  to  that  he  straightway  bent  his  steps.  The  boys 
had  sent  letters  down  to  Sacramento  by  various  ways,  and 
Mont  now  deposited  another  lot,  one  of  which,  written  to 
Farmer  Stevens,  in  Richardson,  Illinois,  gave  him  the 
points  of  Bill  Bailee's  story  about  Johnny,  and  besought 
him  to  look  up  the  case,  if  possible. 

The  tent  was  crowded  with  men  inquiring  for  "letters 
from  the  States."  There  was  no  post-office  here,  but  the 
accommodating  expressman,  in  consideration  of  a  few 
dollars'  worth  of  dust,  would  take  a  list  of  names,  send  it 
to  San  Francisco,  and  bring  up  the  letters  of  people  who 
made  Nye's  Ranch  their  trading-point.  Miners  far  back 
among  the  hills  sent  to  the  Ranch  by  their  comrades  or 
nearest  neighbors,  and,  in  course  of  time,  their  precious 
letters,  sifting  through  many  hands,  sought  them  out,  and 
brought  them  tidings  from  home. 

There  were  no  letters  for  the  boys  at  Crowbait.  They 
had  expected  none,  as  their  list  of  names  had  been  sent  to 
Sacramento.  With  a  homesick  and  lonely  feeling,  Mont 
made  his  purchases  as  soon  as  possible,  loaded  them  on 
old  Jim,  and  made  his  way  out  of  the  muddy  and  dis 
agreeable  little  settlement.  The  sky  was  dark  and  lower 
ing,  and  the  sharp  white  peaks  of  the  Sierra  wore  lost  in 
a  gray  mist,  as  he  laboriously  picked  his  way  across  the 
plain  and  camped  for  the  night  with  a  hospitable  terds- 
man  on  the  edge  of  Butte  Creek. 

When  he  resumed  his  journey,  next  day,  the  an  was 
raw  and  chilly ;  a  slate-colorod  cloud  closed  over  tl  >e 


236  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

foot-hills,  and  a  mild  but  exasperating  drizzle  pervaded 
the  plain  as  he  left  it  and  began  to  ascend  theurdulation* 
which  here  seem  like  a  ground-swell,  and,  higher  up,  breal* 
into  the  tumultuous  waves  of  the  Sierra. 

Mont  pushed  on  impatiently,  riding  when  the  trail  was 
easy,  and  leading  his  loaded  steed  where  the  way  was 
steep  and  rough.  Both  horse  and  man  were  in  haste  to 
get  home.  Mont  grew  feverish  and  apprehensive  as  he 
saw  the  snow  beginning  to  fall  heavily,  while  he  was  yet 
only  on  his  second  day  from  Nye's  Ranch.  And  when  he 
camped  that  night  in  the  mauzanita  bushes,  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  he  could  kindle  a  fire.  But  he  found 
a  partly  screened  spot,  where  the  snow  sifted  lightly  in, 
and  where  he  could  camp  in  comparative  comfort.  Jim 
was  relieved  of  his  load,  and  tied  in  a  clump  of  trees 
which  sheltered  him  ;  and  Mont  slept  as  best  he  could } 
and  this  was  not  sleeping  well.  His  feet  were  sore  with 
the  chafing  of  a  pair  of  new  boots,  put  on  when  he  left 
the  trading  post,  and  now  soaked  with  melting  snow. 

Next  day,  after  Jim  had  browsed  among  the  bushes, 
and  Mont  had  swallowed  a  little  hot  coffee,  they  struggled 
on  together,  though  the  horse  was  now  obliged  to  wallow 
in  a  deep  mass  of  snow,  and  Mont  desperately  kept  up  by 
his  side. 

Passing  laboriously  through  the  round  valley  where  he 
had  made  his  first  night's  camp,  Mont  entered  the  rocky 
jaws  of  Scotchman's  Yalley.  The  day  was  well  advanced, 
but  the  sky  was  dark  with  storm.  Overhead,  the  air  was 
thick  as  with  a  drifting  whirl  of  snow.  The  black-green 
trees  by  the  trail  were  half  hidden  and  loaded  with  the 
snow.  All  trace  of  the  route  had  vanished  from  the 
ground,  and  only  a  few  landmarks,  which  Mont's  prac 
tised  eye  had  noted  as  he  rode  down  the  trail,  served  t/ 


AN  EXPEDITION.  237 

show  tlic  way  in  which  he  should  go.  There  was  the 
high,  steep  southern  wall  of  the  canon,  and  there  were  the 
three  cabins  on  the  bench  below  the  upper  edge.  Poor 
Mont  noted  in  the  blinding  storm  the  blue  smoke  curling 
from  the  chimneys  of  the  cabins,  and  he  longed  to  be  by 
the  cheerful  fireside  which  he  pictured  tj  himself  was 
within.  Like  showers  of  feathers,  moist  arid  large,  the 
flakes  fell,  and  fell  continually.  Mont's  feet  were  wet 
and  sore  and  lame.  Once  and  again  he  paused  in  his 
struggles  and  eyed  the  dismal  sight  around  him,  half-won* 
dering  if  he  should  ever  get  through.  The  hapless  horse 
panted  beneath  his  burden,  groaning  as  his  master  dragged 
him  on  through  the  drifts.  Once,  Mont,  with  numb 
ringers,  untied  the  thongs  that  bound  part  of  the  load : 
then,  passionately  crying  aloud,  "  No !  no !  I  can't  lose 
these  provisions  ! "  he  made  them  fast  again  and  labored 
onward. 

He  was  now  well  up  the  canon.  Just  opposite  him 
were  the  cabins,  and,  as  he  looked  up  at  them,  the  air 
began  to  clear.  The  snow  fell  only  in  scattered  flakes, 
and  the  clouds  showed  signs  of  breaking  away.  Before 
him,  however,  the  way  looked  even  more  hopeless  than 
when  it  had  been  concealed  by  the  falling  storm.  Be 
hind,  a  few  ragged,  fading  tracks  showed  where  man  and 
horse  had  struggled  on  in  the  drift. 

Suddenly,  a  low  and  far-off  moan  broke  on  the  deathly 
stillness  of  the  air.  Mont,  scared  and  half-delirious  with 
excitement  and  fatigue,  looked  up  towards  the  southern 
wall  of  the  defile.  The  mountain-top  seemed  to  be  un 
loosed  and  falling  over  into  the  valley.  The  whole  side 
of  the  ridge  appeared  broken  off,  and  as  it  glided  sviftly 
down,  Mont  noted  with  fascinated  minuteness  of  observa 
tion,  that  a  broad  brown  furrow  showed  behind  it  where 


238  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

the  earth  was  laid  bare.  Down  rushed  the  mighty  ava 
lanche.  The  whole  defile  seemed  to  shut  up  like  the  ccvera 
of  a  book.  In  a  twinkling  the  three  poor  little  cabins 
were  wiped  out  as  with  a  wet  sponge.  The  pallid  mass 
swept  on  with  a  roar,  its  huge  arms  flying  up  towards 
the  skies.  It  was  not  so  much  a  wall  of  snow  as  a  resist 
less  torrent,  broad  and  deep.  The  young  man  stood  still, 
his  heart  ceased  to  beat ;  yet  he  stood  and  gazed,  unable 
to  flee,  as  the  avalanche  thundered  down  from  bench  to 
bench,  struck  the  bottom  of  the  canon,  and  spread  out  in 
a  confused  mass  of  whiteness.  In  an  instant,  horse  and 
man  vanished  in  a  waste  of  snow.  The  narrow  valley 
was  filled,  and  only  here  and  there,  where  an  uprooted 
tree  or  a  fragment  of  a  wrecked  cabin  showed  above  the 
snow,  was  there  anything  to  break  the  utter  desolation. 


PRIVATION  AND  DELIVERANCE.  2J9 


CHAPTER  XXH. 


"  I  ALLOW  this  is  dreffle  disagreeable,"  said  Hi.  "  Mont's 
been  gone  eight  days  ;  nothin'  in  the  house  to  e;it,  and  no 
neighbors  within  ten  miles,  so  far's  we  know." 

"  And  I'm  powerful  hungry,"  chimed  in  Tom,  who  never 
missed  an  opportunity  to  make  a  complaint. 

"  I  wouldn't  mind,"  said  Arty,  once  more  going  to  the 
door  and  looking  down  the  snow-covered  trail.  "  1 
wouldn't  mind,  if  we  only  knew  Mont  was  safe  some 
where." 

Barney  grumbled  and  said  that  it  served  them  right  for 
letting  Mont  go  down  into  the  valley  alone.  They  were 
fools,  he  thought,  for  having  stayed  so  high  up  among  the 
mountains  during  the  winter.  If  they  had  gone  out  when 
Mont  went  to  Nye's  Ranch,  and  had  stayed  out,  they  never 
should  have  seen  any  snow.  There  was  no  snow  in  the 
valley ;  and  miners  were  "  making  money  hand  over  fist " 
down  on  the  American  and  the  Stanislaus  rivers. 

"  Yes,  yer  hindsight  is  fust-rate,  Crogan  ;  but  I  wouldn't 
give  much  for  yer  foresight,"  snarled  Hi,  who  was  chafing 
under  this  long  and  enforced  idleness. 

Barney,  without  a  word,  took  his  gun  and  went  out  in 
the  snow  to  hunt  rabbits.  There  was  neither  flour  nor 
meat  in  the  cabin ;  but  there  was  a  plenty  of  coffee,  some 
sugar,  and  a  few  beans.  There  was  no  immediate  danger 
of  starvation.  Even  at  the  worst,  a  few  rabbits  and 


fV40  THE  BC  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

squirrels  could  be  snared  or  shot  in  the  underbrush  ;  and 
Arty  had  found  that  by  crushing  the  dry  berries  of  the 
manzanita,  which  still  hung  on  the  bushes,  a  very  palatable 
sort  of  flour  could  be  made.  Barnard  announced  his  in 
tention  of  starving  before  he  would  eat  such  a  mesa, 
though  Arthur  argued  that  the  Indians  ate  it  and  grew  fat 
on  it. 

'l  But  I'm  not  a  Digger,"  was  his  brother's  conclusive 
answer.  "  I'll  starve  first." 

Matters  looked  even  worse  and  more  gloomy,  four  day3 
after,  when  there  was  still  no  sign  of  Mont.  Three  of  the 
boys,  Hi,  Barnard,  and  Arthur,  went  down  the  trail  as  far 
as  Greasertown,  anxiously  looking  for  traces  of  their  ab 
sent  comrade.  Greasertown  was  deserted.  The  six  Mexi 
cans  who  had  lived  there  had  packed  up  their  light 
luggage  and  gone  to  parts  unknown.  On  the  rafters  of 
their  solitary  cabin  were  placed  two  rude  jig-saws,  showing 
that  the  men  intended  to  return.  Drifts  of  snow  were  on 
the  puncheon  floor,  and  the  wind  sighed  mournfully 
through  the  half-chinked  walls  of  the  log  cabin.  A  lone 
some-looking  chipmunk  gazed  at  the  intruders,  as  he  sat 
upright  in  the  window-sill ;  then  he  uttered  a  little  ex 
clamation  of  disgust  and  disappeared. 

"  Yer  might  have  shot  him,"  mutterd  Hi,  as  he  took  up 
n  junk  bottle  which  had  been  used  for  a  candlestick,  and 
thoughtfully  put  his  nose  to  its  mouth. 

''  What  does  it  smell  cf  ? r'  asked  Barnard,  with  some 
sharpness. 

"  Don't  know,"  replied  Hi.  "  I  was  a-thinkin'  that  ] 
might  eat  this  'ere  taller  droppings,  if  the  mice  hadn't 
been  before  me." 

Barney  laughed,  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  "Why,  Hi,  we  are  not  so  badly  off  as  all  that  comes  to- 


PRIVATION  AND  DELIVERANCE.  241 

yet.     We  needn't  eat  tallow  candlcB,  like  the  Esquimaux 
We  can  live  on  rabbits,  you  know." 

"  There's  no  fat  on  rabbits,  and  I  must  say  I'm  just 
a-pinin'  for  somethin'  fat,"  rejoined  poor  Hi. 

They  had  not  even  candles  in  their  own  cabin  ;  but  aa 
they  sat  that  night  around  the  cheerful  blaze  of  their  fire, 
Hi  acknowledged  that  it  was  far  better  to  have  fat  pine 
knots  to  burn  than  fat  candles  to  eat. 

After  all,  the  great  burden  on  their  spirits  was  Mont's 
mysterious  absence.  If  they  could  only  be  sure  that  he 
was  safe  and  well,  they  would  be  happy.  At  least,  that 
was  what  Barnard  and  Arthur  said,  over  and  over  again. 

"  How  much  money  did  Mont  have,  all  told  ? "  de 
manded  Hi. 

"  Let's  see,"  said  Arty,  reckoning  on  his  fingers  ;  "  there 
was  the  three  hundred  he  got  for  the  cattle,  one  hundred 
you  gave  him  to  send  home  for  you,  two  hundred  Barney 
and  I  sent  off  by  him,  and  two  hundred  of  his  own  for  his 
mother.  Why,  that's  eight  hundred  dollars  altogether  ! " 

"  Eight  hundred  dollars  wuth  of  dust,  and  a  hoss  wuth 
nigh  onto  two  hundred  more,  if  he  is  old  Crowbait.  That's 
a  good  haul." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Hi? "  demanded  Barney,  starting 
up  with  an  angry  face. 

"  What  do  I  mean  ? "  replied  the  other  doggedly.  "  I 
mean  that  it's  a  good  haul  for  a  feller  to  get  away  with 
That's  what  I  mean."  i 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  Mont  has  gone  off  witli 
our  property,  you  confounded  sneak  ?"  and  Barney  ad 
vanced  toward  Hi  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"I  don't  mean  to  insinerwate  nothin'  agin'  nobody, 
Barney  Crogan.  So  keep  yer  temper.  Ye'll  nee:  it 
bumbye  to  keep  from  starvin'.  If  some  highway  robber 


242  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

has  coi  railed  Mont  with  his  dust,  that  would  be  a  good 
haul  for  somebody,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  But  there  are  no  highway  robbers  about  these  parts. 
We  have  never  heard  of  anything  being  stolen  anywhere, 
though  people  leave  their  stuff  lying  around  loose  every 
where." 

Nevertheless,  as  Barney  said  this,  he  sat  down  with  a 
sore  feeling  in  his  heart.  After  all,  they  did  not  know 
much  about  Mont.  The  old  joke  about  his  "  store  clothes" 
was  still  a  tender  subject  in  the  camp,  and  Hi's  unworthy 
suspicions  found  a  lodgment  in  Barney's  mind,  though  his 
eyes  filled  with  angry  tears  when  he  tried  to  think  better 
of  his  old  comrade.  He  struggled  weakly  against  the 
cruel  thoughts  that  rose  in  his  mind.  Then  he  reflected 
that  the  spare  and  unnatural  diet  to  which  they  had  been 
confined  lately  had  reduced  the  moral  tone  of  the  camp. 
The  young  fellow  rose  and  looked  vacantly  out  of  the  little 
loop-hole  in  their  canvas-covered  window.  The  prospect 
without  was  not  cheerful.  The  river  was  frozen  over; 
the  ground  was  white,  and  the  sky  was  gray. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Arty,  cheerily,  "  Mont  is  sure  to  come 
back.  He's  snow-bound,  somewhere,  I'm  sure.  Perhaps 
old  Jim  gave  out,  and  he  had  to  lie  by  somewhere  until 
he  got  better." 

"  Prehaps,"  said  Hi,  with  a  marked  emphasis. 

"  And  then,"  went  on  the  boy,  without  noticing  Hi'a 
interruption,  "  we  are  bound  to  get  through  this  somehow. 
As  Mont  used  to  say,  I  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom,  with  scorn  ;  "  more  bones  than 
meat." 

"Shut  yer  mouth,  you  Tom!"  broke  'n  his  brothei, 
angrily. 

"  Besides,"  added  Arty    "  mother  useu  to  say  " — and 


PRIVATION  AND  DELIVERANCE.  243 

the  boy's  voice  quavered  a  little — "  that  the  Lord  will 
provide." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Barney,  gloomily,  from  the  window 
K  It  seems  as  if  the  Lord  had  gone  off." 

Arthur  gave  his  brother  a  scared  look,  and  remon 
strated,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  Oh,  don't,  Barney !  " 

That  night,  for  almost  the  fiftieth  time  since  Mont  had 
been  gone,  Hi  lifted  the  puncheons  of  the  floor  in  one 
corner  of  the  cabin,  scraped  away  the  soil,  and  dragged 
out  the  can  of  gold  dust  which  formed  the  common  stock. 
He  smoothed  it  over,  lovingly,  in  his  hands,  and  let  it 
drop  back  into  the  can  with  a  sharp  rattle. 

"  It's  a  heap  of  money,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  'T  would 
buy  a  farm  in  Illinoy." 

"  But  it  won't  buy  a  pound  of  side-meat  in  Crowbait 
Gulch,"  said  Barney,  with  some  ill-humor. 

"  Nary  time,"  replied  Hiram.  "  What's  the  use  of  gold 
if  yer  can't  buy  nothin'  with  it  ?  Yer  can't  eat  it,  can't 
drink  it,  can't  wear  it  " — and,  as  if  trying  the  experiment, 
he  took  up  a  bright  lump  and  bit  it.  "  Blame  the  con 
temptible  yaller  stuff !  "  said  Hi,  with  a  sudden  burst  of 
rage.  "  What's  the  good  of  it  now  ?  " — and  he  tossed  it 
into  the  fire. 

The  golden  nugget  struck  the  back  of  the  fireplace 
and  dropped  into  the  blaze,  as  if  astonished  at  its  rude 
treatment. 

Arty,  with  much  concern,  attempted  to  poke  it  out,  but 
Barnard  said : 

"  Let  it  be ;  you  can  poke  it  out  to-morrow,  when  Hi 
and  the  ashes  have  both  cooled  off." 

Johnny,  from  his  bunk,  had  looked  on  this  curious  scene 
with  much  amazement.  He  did  not  exactly  understand 
why  Hi,  who  usually  was  the  greediest  for  gold,  should 


244  THE  SOY  EMIGRANTS. 

now  throw  a  piece  into  the  fire.  Then,  why  did  he  bite 
at  it  ?  He  might  have  known  that  gold  was  not  good  to  eat, 
and  he  had  no  business  to  throw  it  away  like  that  when 
he  found  that  he  could  not  bite  it.  Then  the  lad  remem 
bered  Mont's  last  words,  "  Don't  eat  up  all  the  gold  while 
I  am  gone  !  "  It  was  very  strange.  So,  thinking  of  Mont, 
and  wondering  if  he  would  ever  come  back  again,  Johnny 
turned  his  face  against  the  rough  wall  of  the  cabin  and 
softly  cried  himself  to  sleep. 

Next  day,  the  sun  rose  so  brightly  and  so  clear  that  the 
little  valley  was  deluged  with  an  intense  brightness  almost 
painful  to  the  eyes.  Barnard  awoke,  and  sitting  up  in 
his  bunk,  half-wondered  what  it  was  that  had  troubled 
him  so  much  when  he  went  to  sleep.  Then  he  suddenly 
remembered  the  privations  and  dangers  of  their  situation ; 
and  he  took  up  his  burden  of  anxiety  with  a  dull  feeling 
of  pain. 

Arthur  was  already  punching  up  the  embers,  and,  with 
a  little  laugh,  he  poked  out  the  lump  of  gold  which  Hi 
had  tossed  there  the  night  before.  "  Ouch  1 "  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  dropped  it  on  the  floor,  "  it's  hot  aa 
blazes!" 

"  Hard  to  get  and  hard  to  hold,"  remarked  Barnard, 
soberly. 

As  the  young  miners  gathered  about  their  scanty  break 
fast,  Johnny  reminded  them  of  Mont's  last  words  about 
eating  the  gold. 

"That  was  Mont's  joke,"  said  Barney;  "but  he  little 
thought  how  near  we  should  come  to  having  nothing  but 
that  stuff  to  eat." 

Just  then  there  was  a  sound  outside,  as  of  trampling  in 
the  snow. 

"What's  that?"  cried  Hi. 


PRIVA  TION  AND  VELIVERAN  CE.  245 

"  Grizzlies !  "  shrieked  Tom ;  and  everybody  rushed  tc 
the  door. 

It  was  like  a  message  from  an  outer  and  fur-off  world, 
in  that  solitary  wilderness.  As  they  flung  wide  open  the 
door,  there  was  Mont,  limping  along  with  a  sack  of  flour 
on  his  back,  and  behind  him  was  Messer  with  another 
burden.  Mont  looked  pale  and  worn,  but  he  cried  out, 
cheerily : 

"  Halloo !  Crowbaits !  " 

His  comrades  crowded  about  him  to  relieve  him  of  hia 
load,  shake  his  hands,  and  ask  all  manner  of  questions. 
All  but  Hi,  who,  with  a  great  gulp,  sat  down  on  a  bench 
and  broke  into  tears.  The  other  boys,  though  with  moist 
ened  eyes  and  tender  hearts,  in  this  hour  of  their  deliver 
ance,  looked  upon  the  tearful  Hi  with  real  amazement. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Hi  ? "  asked  Mont,  kindly  putting 
his  arm  on  Hi's  shoulder. 

"I  didn't  allow  I  was  so  powerful  weak,"  blubbered 
the  poor  fellow.  "  I  must  have  been  hungry,  and,  besides, 
I'm  so  glad  you've  got  back,  you  can't  think." 

Barnard's  face  clouded  for  a  moment,  as  he  remembered 
Hiram's  suspicions.  But  Hi  added: 

"  And  I  thought  hard  of  you,  too.  Don't  lay  it  up  agin 
me!" 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Mont.  "  So  long  as  you  are  all  alive,  I  am 
thankful  and  happy.  '  Here  we  are  again,  Mr.  Merryman,' 
as  the  circus-man  says,"  and  the  young  fellow  gayly  slapped 
Arty's  back. 

But  Mont  was  not  in  very  good  case,  and  when  he  told 
bis  story,  they  marvelled  much  that  he  was  alive.  The  ava 
lanche  in  Scotchman's  Valley  had  swept  down  the  miners' 
cabins,  but,  fortunately,  the  only  man  in  either  of  them 
haJ  heard  the  hum  of  the  slide  as  it  camr;  Running  out 


246  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

he  dashed  into  a  tunnel  in  the  rear  of  the  cabin,  where  hii 
comrades  were  at  work,  just  in  time  to  escape  the  flying 
mass  which  swept  down  the  hill-side  and  into  the  gulch 
oelow.  Their  cabins  were  gone,  but  they  were  alive,  and 
thankfully  they  set  themselves  to  recovering  whatever  was 
left  of  the  wreck. 

A  dark  spot  on  the  tumultuous  surface  of  the  snow 
attracted  their  attention.  It  was  a  horse's  head. 

"  Thar  must  be  a  man  whar  thar's  a  hoss,  you  bet,"  waa 
the  sage  remark  of  one  of  them.  So,  leaving  their  own 
affairs,  the  men  worked  manfully  until  they  had  dug  out  old 
Jim,  for  it  was  he — dead  in  the  snow.  Anxiously,  the  good 
fellows  plied  their  shovels  until  Mont,  insensible  and 
nearly  suffocated,  was  dragged  out  to  the  light.  He  waa 
carried  up  to  the  tunnel,  where  a  fire,  chafing,  and  some 
hot  coffee,  recalled  him  to  consciousness.  But  his  mind 
wandered,  and  he  could  give  no  satisfactory  account  of 
himself. 

"  Must  be  one  of  them  Boston  fellers  up  to  Crowbait, 
just  this  side  of  Forty  Thieves,"  muttered  one  of  the  party. 
"  He  looks  too  high-toned  for  one  of  the  Forty  Thieves 
folks.  Besides,  they  all  left  a  fortnight  ago ;  and  what's  he 
a-doin'  down  here  ?  "  And  the  puzzled  miner  scratched 
his  head. 

Mont  could  only  murmur,  "  Don't  eat  all  the  gold  up ! " 

Out  of  the  wreck  of  their  cabins  the  miners  soon  recon- 
Btructed  a  comfortable  shelter.  Mont's  provisions  were 
nearly  all  found  and  put  by  for  him  ;  and  his  rescuers 
made  him,  and  themselves,  as  comfortable  as  possible 
under  the  circumstances. 

When  the  young  man,  after  a  day  or  two,  was  able  to 
Bit  up  and  tell  who  he  was  and  where  he  came  from,  he 
found  himself  so  weak  and  lame  that  he  could  not  travel 


PRIVATION  AND  DELIVERANCE.  247 

He  moaned  over  this,  for  lie  was  filled  with  alarm  for  hia 
comrades,  waiting  at  home  for  food.  More  than  a  week 
was  already  gone,  and  his  feet  were  yet  so  sore  that  it  waa 
impossible  for  him  to  move.  He  must  go,  if  he  had  to 
crawl.  The  boys  would  starve. 

Hie  new  friends  tried  to  persuade  him  that  his  "  pard- 
ners  "  would  be  able  to  get  along  on  the  game  of  the  re 
gion,  and  that  it  was  more  necessary  for  him  to  get  well 
than  for  him  to  take  food  to  them.  Mont  fretted,  and  con 
tinually  fixed  his  gaze  on  the  narrow  canon  entrance 
through  which  he  must  struggle  on  to  Crowbait. 

One  day,  while  looking  wistfully  out  over  the  gulch,  he 
saw  the  well-known  slouchy  figure  of  Messer  crossing  on 
the  snow,  now  fast  melting  away.  Messer  was  loaded  with 
pick,  pan,  and  "  grub.  "  He  had  left  his  wife  at  French 
man's  Misery,  down  the  valley,  and  had  come  up  to  join 
an  old  acquaintance  in  the  hill  diggings,  where  Mont  was 
now  confined  against  his  will. 

It  was  a  fortunate  meeting.  Honest  Messer  said :  "  You 
uns  was  kind  to  we  uns  on  the  plains.  I'll  pack  you  clean 
up  to  Chaparral,  if  that'll  do  you  any  good." 

Mont  protested  that  he  could  walk ;  but  he  should  be 
glad  for  some  assistance  with  his  load.  Messer  expressed 
a  willingness  to  carry  Mont  and  all  the  goods  and  provi 
sions  which  poor  old  Jim  had  so  far  brought.  So,  after 
one  more  day's  rest,  the  two  men  set  out  with  as  much  of 
the  stuff  as  they  could  carry.  The  trail  was  difficult,  but 
they  managed  to  reach  Greasertown  at  the  end  of  their 
first  day.  Here  they  camped  in  the  deserted  cabin,  and 
next  day,  bright  and  early  in  the  morning,  they  pushed 
on  to  Crowbait.  Mont  had  hoped  to  surprise  the  boys. 
But  when  he  drew  near,  and  none  came  to  meet  him,  hia 
heart  sank.  There  was  no  sign  of  life  when  he  came  in 


248  THE  B0  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

sight  of  the  cabin.  The  sun  was  up,  but  no  smoke  issued 
from  the  rude  chimney. 

"  Have  they  become  discouraged  and  gone  away  ?  "  he 
asked  himself,  with  growing  alarm.  Then  a  pale  blue 
wreath  of  smoke  curled  up  from  the  chimney.  "  That's 
Arty  !  God  bless  the  boy ! "  murmured  Mont  to  himself. 

Now  he  heard  voices  within,  and  the  door  opened.  He 
was  at  home  at  last.  All  was  well. 

"  It  was  a  tight  squeak  you  uns  had  of  it,"  remarked 
Messer,  solemnly. 

Barney,  standing  behind  Arthur,  affectionately  put  his 
hands  on  the  lad's  shoulders,  and  said : 

"  But  this  little  chap  reminded  us  that  the  Lord  would 
provide." 


LUCK  IN  STREAKS. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

LUCK   IN    STREAKS. 

MONI  did  lot  readily  recover  from  bis  sickness.  Dur 
ing  the  remainder  of  that  winter,  which  yet  had  many 
privations  in  store  for  them,  he  was  infirm  in  health. 
The  boys  had  anxious  hours  and  days.  There  was  no 
physician  in  the  region  ;  their  own  slender  stock  of  medi 
cines  was  not  of  much  avail  in  a  case  of  serious  sickness 
like  this;  and  more  than  once  the  tender-hearted  Barney, 
who  could  not  endure  the  sight  of  his  comrade  suffering 
without  remedy,  went  hastily  out  among  the  snow-covered 
hills,  and,  in  the  death-like  waste  of  the  forest,  tried  to 
find  relief  for  his  pent-up  and  sorrowful  feelings. 

It  was  not  until  the  snow  had  melted,  the  wild  geese 
had  begun  to  clamor  in  the  sky,  and  the  ripple  of  the 
creek  along  its  pebbly  bars  was  heard  once  more,  that 
Mont  fairly  recovered.  The  log  cabin  was  continually 
clamp,  and  as  little  sunshine  could  pour  into  it  through 
the  winter,  it  was  not  a  good  place  for  a  sick  man.  But 
when  the  doors  and  windows  were  thrown  open  wide,  and 
the  warm  rays  of  the  early  California  spring  flooded  the 
little  house  with  sunlight,  the  invalid  recovered  rapidly, 
and  the  shadow  of  a  great  trouble  f  assed  away  from  the 
household. 

With  the  re-opening  of  the  trails  came  new  and  old 
acquaintances.  Almost  before  the  snow  had  melted  from 
the  mountains  above  them,  prospectors  came  hunting 


250  THE  BOT  EMIGRANTS.- 

through  the  hills  for  gold.  Many  of  these  were  newly 
arrived  in  the  country,  and  they  had  already  begun  tc 
think  that  the  gold  of  the  lower  valleys  was  "  playedout^? 
and  that  the  precious  stuff  must  be  sought  higher  up  in 
{lie  Sierra.  Nevertheless,  all  of  these  had  gold  dust  with 
I  hem,  which  they  handled  as  carelessly  as  if  it  had  been 
common  dirt.  Each  man  carried  a  little  pair  of  scales 
about  him,  with  which  he  weighed  the  ore  when  he  bought 
or  sold  anything ;  for,  as  yet,  there  was  no  coin  and  no 
other  currency  than  this.  With  these  emigrants,  too, 
came  all  sorts  of  queer  contrivances  for  separating  gold 
from  the  earth  in  which  it  was  found.  Machines  in  vented 
in  "  the  States/ '  or  on  board  ship,  by  men  who  had  never 
seen  the  mines,  were  carefully  brought  up  to  the  diggings 
at  great  expense,  and  then  thrown  away.  After  all,  the 
cradle,  or  rocker,  was  the  best,  simplest,  and  cheapest 
gold-separator  then  known.  It  could  be  carried  on  a 
mule's  back,  or  a  stout  man  could  easily  pack  it  on  his 
own  back,  from  place  to  place.  So,  in  due  time,  the 
trails  to  the  mines  were  strewed  with  the  useless  contriv 
ances  for  mining,  which  were  discarded  for  the  homely 
and  labor-saving  cradle. 

With  the  spring,  too,  came  news  from  home.  Some  of 
their  neighbors  at  Forty  Thieves  brought  up  a  package  of 
priceless  letters  from  Sacramento  for  the  boys.  Barnard 
and  Arthur  did  not  think  five  dollars  too  much  to  pay 
for  a  fat  envelope  from  Sugar  Grove ;  for  that  packet 
contained  a  wonderful  letter  of  many  pages,  in  which 
father,  mother,  sister,  and  each  one  of  the  brothers  had 
written  something.  It  was  a  marvellous  production, 
written  during  the  early  winter  evenings,  and  the  two 
boys  read  it  over  and  over  again  with  almost  tearfu» 
delight.  It  seemed  strange  to  read  in  those  distant  soli 


L  UCK  IN  STREAKS.  251 

tndes  of  the  white  calf  which  had  been  born  to  Daisy, 
and  of  the  marvellous  crop  of  bell-flower  apples  last  year- 
Barnard  put  down  the  closely  written  pages  which  told 
him  how  the  wheat  crop  had  turned  out  in  the  ten  aero 
lot,  how  the  pigs  had  been  sold  to  Jim  Van  Orman.  and 
how  tTedediah  Page  was  married  to  Dolly  Oliver,  and 
Father  Dixon  had  been  presented  with  a  gold-headed 
cane  by  the  citizens  of  the  town.  As  the  boy  looked 
away  from  these  simple  annals  of  his  far-off  home  into 
the  trackless  forests  which  clothed  the  flanks  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  he  seemed  as  one  in  a  dream.  He  was  obliged 
to  look  about  him  to  be  sure  that  he  was  in  California 
and  not  in  Illinois.  The  picture  of  the  old  homestead  at 
Sugar  Grove,  the  red  barn,  the  well-sweep,  the  family 
about  the  big  kitchen-table,  and  the  neighbors  dropping 
in  to  chat,  now  seemed  something  that  existed  in  some 
other  world  than  this. 

Hi  and  Tom  also  had  their  budget  of  home  news, 
which  was  none  the  less  welcome,  probably,  because  the 
handwriting  was  rugged,  and  because,  as  Hi  expressed  it, 
the  dingy  letter-paper  "  smelt  confoundedly  of  terbacker- 
Binoke."  Old  man  Fender  and  his  wife  dearly  loved  a 
pipe  when  any  serious  business,  like  that  of  letter-writing, 
was  in  hand. 

Mont  went  away  by  himself  to  read  his  long,  long 
letters  from  Cainbridgeport.  He  had  two  sets  of  these — 
ore  in  the  stately,  erect  handwriting  of  his  mother,  and 
the  other  crowded  full  of  fine  hair-lines,  expressing, 
doubtless,  very  comfortable  sentiments,  for  the  boys 
observed  that  Mont  improved  in  spirits  whenever  he  read 
these.  The  young  man  was  always  light-hearted,  as  of 
old. 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  giving  you  a  bit  of  one  of  our  letters, 


252  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Johnny,"  said  Arty,  genially,  as  he  saw  that  the  friendless 
little  lad  looked  on  the  happy  circle  of  readers  with  a 
longing  face,  "  only  I  suppose  it  wouldn't  do  you  any 
good.  You  might '  play  '  that  it  was  from  your  sister." 

"  I  don't  mind  it  a  bit,"  said  Johnny,  stoutly;  "  but  it 
is  sort  of  hard-like  that  I've  got  nobody  to  write  to  me. 
Nobody,  nobody! "  and  the  lad's  eyes  filled  with  teais,  in 
spite  of  himself. 

Nevertheless,  there  was  news  about  Johnny.  Farmei 
Stevens  had  made  inquiries,  and  had  found  that  one 
Doctor  Jenness,  known  as  a  veterinary  surgeon,  otherwise 
"  horse-doctor,"  lived  at  Lick  Springs,  Yermilliou  County , 
and  that  his  sister,  name  unknown,  had  married  some 
years  ago,  and  had  subsequently  died  in  Ogle  Countj, 
leaving  a  little  son  and  some  property.  So  much  was 
already  discovered  by  way  of  a  beginning,  and  the  good 
man  was  sure  he  should  be  able  to  trace  the  rest  by-and- 
by.  Johnny  heard  the  story  without  much  interest. 
Arty  was  excited  to  know  that  his  father  was  on  the 
track  of  Johnny's  parentage.  It  had  been  a  great  mys 
tery  to  him.  He  was  sure  some  great  thing  might  happen 
yet.  But  Johnny  was  satisfied  with  his  present  con  lition, 
and  was  at  home  with  his  new  friends.  Beyond  these  he 
had  no  concern  whatever. 

As  soon  as  the  frost  was  out  of  the  ground,  the  boys 
went  to  work  again  \vith  a  hearty  good  will.  They  had  put 
their  mining  tools  in  order  during  the  winter  leisure,  and 
their  very  first  ventures  into  the  claim  were  richly  repaid. 
They  had  worked  well  up  towards  the  upper  end  of  the 
gulch,  skinning  off  the  top  soil  and  digging  up  the  pay 
dirt  next  to  the  bed-rock.  One  day,  Mont,  M!IO  was  man 
fully  tugging  away  with  his  returning  strength,  fairly 
ihouted  with  delight,  as  his  shovel  turned  up  a  broker 


LUCK  IN  STREAKS.  25 $ 

mass  of  gold,  shin _ng  in  one  magical  cluster.  The  boys 
came  running,  and  stooping  down,  with  hooked  fingers, 
Hi  eagerly  clawed  out  the  loose  earth.  There,  in  a  nai- 
row  crevice  in  the  bed-rock,  like  eggs  in  a  basket,  wei? 
thirteen  lumps  of  bright,  yellow,  solid  gold,  some  as  largo 
as  butternuts,  some  smaller,  and  some  about  as  large  as 
marbles.  They  were  all  irregular  in  shape,  but  all  were 
smoothly  rounded  as  if  they  had  been  rolled  and  rolled 
for  ages  in  the  bed  of  some  swiftly  moving  stream.  The 
earth  was  closely  packed  about  them,  and  even  in  this 
soft  bed  appeared  shining  particles,  which  would  have 
excited  their  expectations  if  they  had  not  now  the  great 
luck  in  their  grasp. 

"  I  allow  there  must  be  at  least  fifty  thousand  dollars 
in  that  there  hole  !  "  said  Hi,  feverishly,  as  he  fingered 
the  glorious  "  chispas." 

"  Oh,  Hi,  you're  crazy  !  "  broke  in  Barney.  "  There 
isn't  more  than  ten  thousand  in  the  whole  lot,  if  there  is 
BO  much.  Gold  dust  is  mighty  deceiving,  you  know." 

"  Well,  let's  go  for  the  nest,"  said  Tom,  valiantly  bran 
dishing  the  pick.  "  May  be  we'll  strike  another  such  nest 
deeper  down." 

But  this  was  a  vain  hope.  The  dirt  was  carefully 
Bcraped  out  of  the  little  hole  where  the  gold  had  been 
found.  When  washed,  it  paid  well,  though  not  in  big 
lumps.  The  boys  dug  all  around  the  lucky  spot  without 
finding  any  more  rich  deposits.  Hi  left  his  rocker  by  the 
creek,  in  order  to  be  on  hand  when  the  next  "  big  strike  " 
was  made ;  and  he  grew  fretful  as  days  went  by  and 
only  fair  wages  were  returned  for  their  labors. 

Meantime,  loving  letters  to  the  folks  at  home  were 
written,  and  a  modest  returr  of  their  first  great  luck  waa 
also  sent.  The  actual  value  of  their  find,  after  all,  was 


254  THE  KO T  EMIGRANTS. 

not  nearly  so  great  as  it  had  seemed.  Gold  dust,  as 
Barney  had  truly  said,  is  deceiving.  Their  mine  had 
yielded,  since  spring  had  opened,  ten  thousand  dollars,  oi 
which  about  one-half  had  been  found  in  what  Johnny 
called  «  the  lucky  hole." 

So,  with  the  letters  home  went  a  package  of  gold  dust. 
Mining  operations  had  thickened  so  among  the  mountains 
that  Freeman's  Express  Company  had  pushed  its  agencies 
far  up  into  the  Sierra.  Mounted  messengers  collected 
and  delivered  letters  and  small  parcels,  and  no  sight  in 
all  the  year  was  so  welcome  to  these  exiles  in  the 
mountains  of  California  as  the  lithe  horseman,  with  hia 
saddle-bags  strapped  behind  him  and  his  pistols  at  hia 
belt,  rode  over  the  divide  and  plunged  into  the  gulches 
where  men  were  delving  in  the  mines.  Now  they  had 
money  on  the  way  home — "  money  in  the  bank,"  as  Hi 
put  it — and  they  returned  to  their  work  with  new  energy. 
They  ran  narrow  trenches  up  into  the  slopes  on  either  side 
of  their  claim.  They  sank  holes  in  the  edges  of  the 
bank,  the  central  portion  of  the  triangular  gulch  having 
been  carefully  worked  over.  One  day,  when  they  weighed 
up  their  gains  for  that  day's  labor,  they  found  just  ten 
dollars.  Hi  frowned,  and  said  that  "the  youngsters" 
were  getting  lazy.  Tom.  as  a  representative  youngster, 
resented  this  remark,  and  murmured  something  about 
punching  Hi's  head.  Mont  interfered  in  behalf  of  peace, 
and  cheerily  reminded  them  that  theie  had  been  a  time 
when  ten  dollars  was  a  good  show  for  a  day's  work. 

"But  that  was  when  we  were  prospecting,"  said  Larney, 
reef  ully  looking  at  the  meagre  little  yield  of  gold.  "  Now 
we  are  supposed  to  be  in  a  paying  claim.  Ten  dollars  a 
day  is  less  than  two  dollars  a-piece." 

The  next  day's  harvest  was  twenty-two  dol'ars     The 


LUCK  IN  STREAKS.  255 

next  was  worse  vet — only  five  dollars.     But  on  the  third 
day  they  washed  out  eighty-five  cents! 

An  expert  from  Swell- Head  Gulch  was  called  in  tc 
view  the  premises.  He  walked  over  the  ground,  spilling 
his  tobacco-juice  into  every  hole,  as  though  that  were  the 
magic  means  by  which  he  was  to  divine  the  situation, — 
asked  a  .few  questions,  and,  when  the  lucky  find  was 
described,  said,  with  great  contempt : 

"  That  war  only  a  pocket." 

Then  he  scooped  up  some  of  the  earth  next  the  outer 
edge  of  the  bed-rock  last  laid  bare,  poked  it  about  in  the 
palm  of  his  rough  hand,  with  a  knowing  air,  and  said : 

"  Boys,  your  claim  is  played  out." 

So  saying,  he  stalked  away,  without  giving  the  matter  a 
second  thought. 

In  an  instant  almost  their  castles  in  the  air  had  tumbled. 
Barnard  sat  down  on  the  ground  in  a  most  depressed  con 
dition  of  mind,  saying : 

"  Just  our  luck  !  " 

Hi  growled  :  "  And  we've  been  and  gone  and  sent  all 
our  money  home." 

Arty  turned  to  Mont,  and  asked  with  his  eyes : 

"Well?" 

And  Mont  said  :  "  There's  only  one  thing  to  do,  boys 
A  a  Bush  would  say,  we  may  as  well  '  g&4,  up  and  dust.' ;; 


256  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. ' 


CHAPTEK  XXIV. 

WANDERING   ONCE   MORE. 

WHIIN  the  boys  finally  resolved  to  leave  Crowbait  dig 
gings,  they  found  it  easier  to  remove  than  they  had 
thought.  Little  by  little  they  had  reduced  their  outfit. 
The  cattle  had  been  sold,  their  horse  was  dead,  the  tent 
had  been  used  up  in  various  ways,  the  box  of  their  wagon 
made  into  trunks  and  benches,  and  the  running  geai 
traded  off  for  flour  to  a  man  who  had  happened  that  way 
early  in  the  spring.  Nevertheless,  as  they  loaded  them 
selves  with  their  mining  tools  and  slender  stock  of  pro 
visions,  and  made  ready  to  turn  their  backs  on  what  had 
been  home  to  them,  they  could  not  help  feeling  sad. 
Since  they  had  left  the  States  no  place  had  so  long  been 
their  camp. 

But  their  preparations  for  a  tramp  were  soon  finished, 
and,  one  bright  spring  morning,  they  marched  up  the 
creek.  The  faithful  Pete  trotting  along  at  Arty's  heels, 
was  very  much  surprised,  apparently,  at  this  sudden 
desertion  of  the  old  home. 

"Good-by,  old  Boston!"  said  Arty,  as  they  turned  a 
bend  in  the  river  which  would  shut  the  log  cabin  from 
new.  "  Good-by  !  we've  had  a  good  time  and  some  hard 
luck  with  you." 

"  Good  riddance  to  old  Boston,  I  say,"  grumbled  Tom, 
who  was  staggering  along  under  the  weight  of  sundry  pots 
and  pans.  "  I'm  glad  to  get  shut  of  the  place.  Too  much 
work,  and  too  little  gold." 


WANDERING  ONCE  MORE.  257 

"Oh,  shut  your  mouth  and  come  ahead,"  scolded  Hi, 
"  It  appears  like  you  all  wanted  to  make  speeches  on  the 
old  shebang."  Nevertheless,  Hi  breathed  a  long  sigh,  and 
Bet  his  face  with  a  hard  look,  as  if  he  was  determined 
that  he  would  not  regret  leaving  their  first  home  iu 
California. 

They  had  heard  of  Table  Mountain  as  being  a  very 
rich  mining  region,  and  thither  the  little  company  of  gold- 
seekers  now  bent  their  steps.  Their  way  was  along  the 
foot-hills,  covered  with  verdure,  and  knee-deep  in  wild 
flowers.  The  slopes  were  splashed  with  great  patches  of 
blue,  white,  orange,  and  yellow,  showing  where  the  wild 
larkspur,  heliotrope  and  poppy  grew  in  prodigal  luxuri 
ance.  The  pines  and  spruces  were  spicy  with  balsamic 
odors,  and  the  air  was  soft  with  the  early  summer  heat 
swept  up  from  the  Sacramento  Valley. 

Now  and  then  they  encountered  a  party  of  miners,  two, 
three,  or  half  a  dozen,  laboriously  climbing  the  steep  trails 
which  led  among  the  hills ;  and  now  and  then  they  stum 
bled  on  others  who  were  working  at  claims  which  they 
had  taken  up  by  streams  and  in  gulches.  But,  for  the 
most  part,  the  young  lads  had  the  country  to  themselves, 
as  they  tramped  steadily  onward  to  the  north.  It  was  a 
vast  solitude,  almost  untrodden  by  the  foot  of  man.  The 
few  prospectors  who  came  and  went  were  soon  lost  in  the 
well-nigh  pathless  wilderness.  There  were  no  houses  to 
be  seen,  no  roads,  and  even  the  trails  which  they  crossed 
occasionally  seemed  to  have  been  traced  since  the  snow 
had  melted.  Gray  rabbits  bounded  out  and  in  among  the 
ferns.  Ground  squirrels  set  up  their  tails  like  banners, 
and  drifted  on  before  the  wayfarers,  and  the  parti-colored 
magpies  screamed  angrily  from  the  bushes,  as  if  resenting 
this  intrusion  of  human  strangers. 


258  THE  BO  Y  EMIGRANTS. 

On  the  second  day,  climbing  up  a  sharp  ridge,  late  in 
the  afternoon,  they  beheld  a  little  village  on  the  summit 
of  the  next  divide.  Between  the  ridge  and  the  divide  waa 
a  wide  ravine,  through  which  ran  a  pretty  stream,  arid 
all  along  its  banks  the  fresh  earth  was  tumbled  and 
heaped.  A  few  rough-hewn  beams  and  puncheons 
showed  where  men  had  been  working.  But  no  miners 
were  in  sight. 

"  Those  fellows  knock  off  work  pretty  early  in  the 
afternoon,"  said  Barney,  as  the  party  rested  on  the  ridge. 

"  Good  diggin's  and  makin'  lots  of  money,  most  likely," 
added  Hi. 

"  From  this  distance  their  camp  looks  quite  homelike," 
said  Mont,  "  though  I  suppose  we  should  find  it  mean 
enough  when  we  get  into  it.  But  see  how  well  that  double 
row  of  cabins  is  set  against  the  background  of  trees.  If 
there  was  only  a  little  paint  on  some  of  those  shanties,  it 
would  look  quite  like  a  hamlet  among  the  mountains  of 
Vermont." 

"  Only  you  never  see  that  nasty  red  earth  among  the 
Green  Mountains,"  added  Barnard,  with  disgust,  for  the 
natural  scenery  of  the  country  never  pleased  him.  It  was 
"  foreign,"  he  said. 

The  boys  wondered  what  the  settlement  was,  and  so, 
picking  up  their  burdens,  they  scrambled  down  the  hill 
side,  waded  through  the  tall  grass  in  the  bottom,  and 
crossed  the  creek  on  a  rude  little  bridge,  which  had  evi 
dently  been  made  to  enable  the  miners  to  drag  in  their 
lumber  from  the  woods  near  by. 

"'Pears  like  as  if  these  fellows  hadn't  been  at  work  here 
lately,"  said  Hi,  curiously  scanning  the  diggings.  Water 
had  settled  in  the  holes  where  the  miners  had  been  digging 
The  only  tools  to  be  seen  were  worthless  ar.d  rust-covered, 


WANDERING  ON  JE  MORE.  259 

and  a  broken  sluice-box  lay  warping  in  the  sun.  It  looked 
as  if  the  place  had  been  left  for  a  night,  and  the  workers 
had  never  waked  again  to  their  labors. 

The  boys  climbed  the  divide  and  entered  the  settlement. 
H  was  divided  by  a  single  street  or  alley,  which  ran 
through  the  middle.  There  were  eight  cabins  011  one 
side,  and  seven  on  the  other.  These  were  built  of  rough 
logs,  hewn  boards  or  puncheons,  and  one  or  two  were 
pieced  ont  with  bine  cloth,  now  faded  and  mildewed. 
Looking  down  the  street,  the  lads  saw  that  every  door  waa 
open,  and  that  most  of  these,  swinging  outwards,  had  an 
unhinged  and  neglected  look.  Here  and  there,  in  the 
middle  of  the  narrow  street,  was  a  scrap  of  cast-off  clothing, 
an  old  hat,  a  broken  tool,  or  a  battered  bit  of  tin-ware ; 
and,  thickly  strewing  the  ground,  were  dozens  of  empty 
tins,  in  which  meat,  vegetables,  or  oysters  had  been 
preserved. 

But  nobody  was  in  sight.  Arty  timidly  peeped  into  tho 
first  cabin  on  the  left.  Nobody  there.  Tom  blundered 
into  the  house  on  the  right.  Nobody  there.  So  they  went, 
almost  holding  their  breath,  half -suspecting  a  surprise, 
down  through  the  little  village.  Every  house  was  empty, 
silent  and  tenant-less.  All  save  one.  In  the  last  house  on 
the  left,  where  somebody  had  planted  wild  columbines 
about  the  door-step,  and  a  few  pink  flowers  were  unfolding 
themselves,  as  if  the  old  solitude  of  the  place  had  returned, 
Little  Johnny  started  back  in  affright.  In  the  gloom  of  tho 
interior  a  pair  of  huge  fiery  eyes  gleamed  from  one 
corner. 

"  AY ha- what's  that  ? "  he  stammered,  and  backed  towards 
the  door.  Arty  came  and  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and 
when  the  eyes  of  the  boys  had  become  a  little  accustomed 
to  the  darkness,  they  descried  a  solitary  eat  sitting  on  a 


260  TEE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

table  strewed  with  bones,  broken  pipes,  and  bottlos,  tha 
only  surviving  inhabitant  of  this  deserted  village. 

"  Poor  pus !  "  said  Arty,  advancing  towards  her.  Pusa 
set  up  her  tail,  cried  "  Phit !  Phit ! "  darted  through  tho 
door,  and  disappeared  in  the  underbrush,  pursued  by  Pete, 
who  was  apparently  delighted  at  seeing  an  old  acquaint 
ance.  It  was  the  first  cat  he  had  met  in  California. 

The  boys  stood  still  with  a  sort  of  awe,  which  even  tho 
comical  flight  of  the  cat  could  not  quite  dispel.  They 
were  in  a  deserted  camp.  A  village  of  the  dead.  Where 
were  its  inhabitants?  Had  a  plague  carried  them  off? 
If  so,  who  had  buried  the  last  man  ?  The  untenanted 
settlement  bore  no  sign  to  show  who  had  lived  here  or 
where  they  had  gone.  Some  unmeaning  letters,  hacked 
in  the  door-ways,  in  moments  of  idleness,  probably  gave 
the  initials  of  some  of  the  vanished  settlers ;  and  a  few 
rabbit-skins  shrivelling  on  the  cabin-walls,  where  they  had 
been  nailed  by  the  hunters,  reminded  the  visitors  that 
destructive  men  had  lived  here.  But  that  was  all.  The 
red  sunlight  sifted  down  in  an  empty  street,  and  partly 
glorified  the  silent,  shabby,  and  forlorn  mining  camp. 

"  These  chaps  have  heard  of  some  rich  diggings  some 
where.  They  have  been  easily  discouraged  here.  And 
they  have  packed  up  their  traps  in  a  hurry  and  vamosed 
the  ranch."  This  was  .Barney's  deliberate  opinion,  after 
he  had  surveyed  the  ground  with  some  care. 

This  was  the  most  reasonable  explanation  possible. 
Mont  said  that  if  the  entire  community  of  Swell  Head 
Diggings  had  vanished  in  a  single  day,  bound  for  Gold 
Lake,  as  the  boys  knew,  why  should  not  a  bigger  settle 
ment  leave  in  a  hurry,  and  make  a  rush  for  some  othei 
such  folly? 

"•  Anyhow,  here's  a  house  a-piece  for  to-nisrht,"  added 


WANDERING  ONGE  MORE.  261 

Mont,  "and  a  plenty  left  for  storage.  We  may  as  well 
camp  here." 

The  young  adventurers  examined  the  habitations  with 
a  critical  air,  but  finally  agreed  to  keep  together  in  one  oi 
the  largest  of  the  cabins.  Arty  declared  that  it  was  "  too 
poky  "  to  sleep  alone  in  any  one  of  these  deserted  man 
sions.  Somehow  the  others  were  of  the  same  opinion. 

Next  morning,  when  they  straggled  out  into  the  early 
daylight,  in  answer  to  Mont's  cheerful  call,  Barney  crossly 
Baid: 

"  I  thought  you  said  this  was  a  deserted  village,  Mont  ? " 

"So  I  did." 

"  Tisn't  so ;   there's  plenty  of  tenants." 

"  I  know  what  he  means,"  said  Arty,  with  a  comical  look 

"  What  then  ? "  demanded  Mont. 

"Fleas!" 

Everybody  laughed.  They  had  been  long  enough  m 
California  to  find  out  that  these  were  tenants  which  never 
caught  the  gold  fever,  and  never  vacated  any  premises 
whatever. 

That  day  brought  them,  after  frequent  stoppages  for 
prospecting,  to  the  base  of  Table  Mountain. 

It  was  a  long  flat-topped  eminence,  almost  perpendiculai 
as  to  its  sides,  and  shelving  rapidly  down  into  a  well- 
wooded  and  broken  country,  cut  up  by  small  streams.  All 
along  these  streams  were  good  diggings,  it  was  said,  and 
the  chances  were  promising  for  gold-mining  almost  any 
where. 

In  a  broad,  open  space,  through  which  a  shallow  creel* 
poured  over  bars  of  sand  and  gravel,  was  Hoosiertown. 
Miners'  cabins,  tents  and  booths  were  dotted  over  the 
rocky  interval,  and  all  along  the  creek  were  men  working 
like  beavers.  There  were  sluices,  long-toms,  cradles,  and 


262  TUE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

all  sorts  of  contrivances  for  mining.  At  one  place  on  tha 
stream,  tho  miners  bad  run  a  dam  out  into  the  current 
from  oiie  bank,  and  ther.,  curving  it  down  stream,  Lad 
turned  it  back  again  to  a  point  a  little  below  tbe  side  from 
whi  ;h  it  had  started.  This  was  a  "  wingdam."  JBy  making 
it  tclerably  tight  the  place  thus  inclosed  was  comparatively 
free  of  water.  Rude  pumps  were  also  put  in  to  pump  out 
the  water,  and  these  were  worked  by  means  of  "flutter- 
wheels,"  moved  by  the  flowing  water  outside  of  the  dam, 
very  like  the  wheel  of  a  water-mill.  In  this  wingdam 
men  worked  with  the  water  up  to  their  middle.  They 
dug  np  the  bottom  of  the  stream, — sand,  gravel,  and  stone. 
As  the  water  sunk  away  and  the  bottom  was  cleaned,  they 
found  gold — gold  in  lumps  and  fine  scales — •  which  had 
been  washed  there  in  the  far-off  times. 

This  was  going  on  all  along  the  stream,  and  everywhere 
men  were  busy  with  various  wooden  machines,  rude  and 
clumsy,  to  be  sure,  but  good  enough  for  the  present 
purpose. 

The  boys  looked  on  with  silent  amazement.  This  was 
a  real  mining  settlement.  Here  were  more  than  one  hun 
dred  men  at  work,  and  using  machinery  that  had  cost  much 
labor  and  money.  They  seemed  to  be  determined  to  get 
every  scrap  of  gold,  even  though  they  had  to  wipe  up  the 
river,  scrape  down  the  mountain,  and  root  out  the  forest. 
They  were  very  much  in  earnest,  anxious,  without  comfort, 
and  for  the  most  part,  haggard  and  ragged. 

The  borders  of  the  once  pleasant  stream  were  gashed 
'  .vith  diggings,  and  disfigured  with  cumbrous  mining  ap 
paratus.  Even  upon  the  hill-sides  the  surface  was  dotted 
with  heaps  of  red  and  yellow  earth,  where  greedy  pros 
pectors  had  burrowed  in  £ )r  gold.  Along  the  valley,  on 
either  side  of  the  stream,  the  cabins,  with  gaping  st.-amg 


WANLERINQ  ONCE  MORE.  263 

open  to  storm  or  wind,  weltered  in  the  sun ;  and  the 
barren  and  comfortless  place  wore  a  homesick  look  to  the 
young  gold-hunters. 

Arty's  quick  eye  detected  a  woman's  frock  hanging  01; 
tne  thorny  branches  of  a  manzauita  brush  near  a  cabir. 
which  looked  less  untidy  than  the  others. 

"Hooray!  there's  a  woman  in  this  camp,  anyhow," 
said  Hi,  with  enthusiasm,  when  Arty  had  pointed  out  the 
purple  calico  on  the  manzanita.  "  Let's  go  and  take  a  look 
at  her." 

Rather  shamefacedly,  as  if  afraid  of  womankind,  the  lads 
straggled  up  to  the  cabin  and  dropped  their  packs  on  the 
ground.  A  comely  young  woman,  brown  in  face  and  bare 
arms,  but  wearing  a  smart  ribbon  in  her  hair,  came  to  the 
door  with  a  sharp  :  "  Are  you  here  again  ?  " 

"  Nance,  with  hoops  on  as  sure  as  I'm  alive  !  "  exclaimed 
Hi ;  and  his  under  jaw  dropped  clean  down  to  express  his 
utter  amazement. 

Nance  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair,  and  said :  "  Why, 
1  thought  it  was  that  ornery  feller,  Missouri  Joe ;  he's  a 
sparkin'  round  here  just  continual." 

"  Howdy  ?  boys,  howdy  ? "  broke  in  the  good  Mrs.  Dobbs, 
who  now  came  forward  and  looked  over  her  daughter's 
shoulder :  "  We're  po\verf  nl  glad  to  see  ye.  'Pears  like 
old  time  to  see  you,  boys.  My  old  man  was  a-speaking 
about  you  no  more'n  yesterday." 

Nance,  recovering  herself  after  her  first  surprise,  wel 
comed  the  lads,  and  the  whole  party,  seated  on  the  door-step 
and  about  the  cabin,  exchanged  all  the  news  they  had  to 
tell.  The  Dobbs  family  had  been  here  since  the  snow  left, 
vrliich  was  early,  for  not  much  snow  fell  in  these  parts. 
They  had  done  well.  They  were  doing  well.  Philo  Dobba 
had  a  "  pardner  and  the  two  had  a  wingdam,  from  which 


THE  BO  7  EMIGRANTS. 

great  things  were  expected.  Yes,  there  weie  plenty  ol 
chances  here.  Why,  even  tunnelling  had  been  tried,  and 
from  some  of  these  holes  men  had  got  out  gold,  as  Mrs 
Dobbs  expressed  it,  ''hand  over  fist." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  when  Mont  had  remarked  Nance's 
rapid  growth.  "  Yes,  Nance  has  got  to  be  right  peart  of  a 
a;al.  If  she  had  a  little  more  age  onto  her,  and  didn't  kick 
op  her  heels  now  and  then,  she'd  be  quite  a  young  woman." 

"  La,  ma,  how  you  do  run  on,"  pouted  Nancy,  the 
blushes  glowing  through  her  brown  cheeks. 

"  You  see,  we've  put  her  into  long  gowns.  Clothes  is 
powerful  dear  in  these  parts,  to  be  sure  ;  but  she's  the  only 
young  lady  in  Hoosiertown,  and  I  tell  my  old  man,  says  I, 
something  must  be  sacrificed  to  appearances,  says  I." 

What  with  a  hoop  skirt,  a  long  calico  dress,  shoes  on 
her  feet,  and  a  ribbon  in  her  hair,  Nance  was  really  quite 
a  changed  person.  Arty  and  Tom  regarded  her  with  an 
unwonted  respect,  and  Hi  blushed  every  time  he  looked 
at  her. 

The  boys  set  up  their  camp  in  a  deserted  cabin  which 
Philo  Dobbs  had  once  occupied,  and  which  he  gave  them 
full  use  of  for  the  present.  At  last !  they  were  in  a  con 
siderable  community  again.  They  felt  almost  as  if  they 
had  got  back  into  civilization.  At  night  the  notes  of  a 
violin  and  a  flute  from  one  of  the  cabins,  showed  that  the 
tired  miners  were  solacing  themselves  with  music,  and 
sounds  of  talk  and  laughter  floated  on  the  evening  air. 
After  all,  "  it  was  homelike  to  be  among  folks  again." 

So  said  honest  Hi,  as  the  boys  contentedly  sat  about  tiie 
door  of  their  new  home.  Then,  clasping  his  hands  over 
his  knees,  Hi  looked  absently  at  Pete,  who  was  winking 
and  blinking  at  him,  and  added :  "  And  she's  the  only 
young  lady  in  this  yere  town  ! " 


SEPARATION  AND  A  CALAMITY.  205 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

A  SEPARATION  AND  A  CALAMITY. 

A  GREAT  variety  of  mining  was  carried  on  in  the 
vicinity  of  Hoosiertown.  As  we  have  seen,  the  stream 
was  lined  with  works  for  extracting  gold  in  several 
different  ways.  And,  back  from  the  valley,  in  the  low 
hills  of  the  region,  were  some  of  the  operations  known  as 
"dry  diggings;"  here  the  earth  was  pierced  to  a  great 
depth  by  perpendicular  holes,  or  shafts.  Sinking  through 
the  dirt  which  had  no  gold  in  it,  the  miner  finally  reached 
a  layer  of  earth  far  under  the  non-paying  mass,  where 
coarse  gold  was  found  ;  then,  striking  this  "  pay-streak  " 
underneath  the  ground,  he  dug  it  out  carefully  and 
hoisted  it  up  to  the  surfaee,  where  the  gold  was  washed 
out. 

They  burrowed  in  all  directions  as  long  as  the  pay- 
streak  led  them  on ;  and  tiie  holes  thus  made  were  so 
much  like  the  dens  of  coyotes,  or  little  prairie  wolves, 
that  this  sort  of  mining  was  called  "  coyoting."  As  tho 
::  coyoting  "  miner  advanced  with  his  burrow,  far  below 
I  he  surface,  crawling  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  labori- 
fusly  dragging  his  basket  of  dirt  to  the  shaft,  where  his 
partner  hoisted  it  up,  he  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a 
burrower.  "  Dirty  work  brings  clean  money,"  he 
thought;  or  his  mind  went  back  to  wife,  mother,  chil 
dren,  and  friends  at  home,  as  he  dug  in  the  gloom  rim* 
silence  far  underground. 
12 


206  THE  EOT  EMIGRA NTS. 

The  earth  thus  undermined  was  propped  up,  as  the 
K  coyoters "  burrowed  in  all  directions,  to  keep  it  from 
caving  in  upon  them.  Usually  the  overhanging  roof  of 
the  burrow  was  so  tough  that  it  needed  no  support.  But 
it  often  happened  that  the  mass  settled  and  quietly  shut 
d  >wn  forever  upon  the  workers  below. 

Prospecting  over  the  hills  with  Philo  Dobbs  one  day, 
Hi  and  Mont  came  upon  a  flat  place  where  a  considerable 
patch  of  the  ground  had  settled  a  foot  or  two,  leaving  a 
ragged,  brown  edge  to  show  how  far  the  surface  had 
dropped. 

"  This  yere,"  said  Dobbs,  stepping  into  the  middle  of 
the  depression,  "  is  where  the  Redman  boys  was  caved  in 
on  last  fall.  That  there  hole  is  where  their  shaft  was." 

"  Caved  in  upon  ?  "  asked  Mont,  with  a  shiver.  "  How 
many  of  them  were  there  ? " 

"  There  was  the  three  Redman  boys ;  they  were  from 
Maine,  they  was  ;  two  brothers  and  a  cousin.  Then  there 
was  a  chap  from  Illinoy  ;  name  was  Eph  Mullet.  They 
were  the  chaps  that  was  caved  on." 

"  Eph  Mullet !  "  exclaimed  Mont.  "  Why,  Hi,  that 
was  Bill  Bunco's  partner.  Don't  you  remember  \  " 

"Sure  enough,"  said  Philo  Dobbs.  "I  mind  me  now 
that  that  Bunce  had  a  pardner,  but  I  didn't  know  his 
name  was  Mullet.  He  and  Bunce  must  have  fallen  out, 
for  he  was  surely  in  the  Redman  party,  and  is  buried 
under  this  very  spot."  And,  as  if  to  give  emphasis  to 
his  words,  Dobbs  rose  on  his  toes  and  came  down  heavily 
on  his  heels  in  the  middle  of  this  strange  grave. 

"And  where  was  the  man  at  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  all 
this  lime?  "  asked  Hi,  indignantly.  "Why  didn't  he  run 
down  to  the  camp  at  Hoosiertown,  and  give  the  alarm, 
and  have  these  poor  f e.Uows  dug  out  2 " 


A  SEPARATION  AND  A  CALAMITY.  267 

"  Oh,  ho  got  off  safe.  But  as  for  Hoosiertown,  that 
wasn't  built  then.  This  was  last  fall,  and  nothing  had 
been  done  at  Hoosiertown  except  a  little  prospecting  on 
the  creek  by  some  stragglers,  who  had  scratched  about  a 
bit  and  had  lit  out  again  for  better  diggin's.  Here,  yon 
can  see,  where  the  survivin'  pardner,  as  it  were,  started 
in  to  dig  for  his  mates.  But,  Lor !  he  had  to  go  down 
twenty  odd  feet.  No  wonder  he  gave  it  up  as  a  bad  job, 
and  put  out  by  himself." 

"  What  a  horrible  story ! "  said  Mont,  looking  at  the 
sunken  tract  of  earth  which  covered  so  much  sorrow. 

"  Yas,  yas,"  replied  Dobbs.  "  There's  any  number  of 
poor  fellers  huntin'  for  gold  and  leavin'  their  bones 
among  these  yere  hills,  in  pits,  ravines,  and  gulches,  and 
their  folks  at  home  a-wonderin'  why  they  don't  never 
turn  up.  Turn  up !  Why,  they'll  never  show  a  hand 
till  the  Day  of  Jedgment."  And  Philo  Dobbs  thought 
fully  picked  up  a  bit  of  pay-dirt,  and  rubbed  it  out  on 
the  palm  of  his  hand. 

Coyote  mining  had  a  gloomy  outlook  to  the  boys,  but 
Hi  was  very  much  fascinated  with  the  hill-digginga 
which  he  saw  some  of  the  miners  at  work  in.  Some  of 
these  were  nothing  more  than  coyote  holes  run  horizon 
tally  with  the  side  of  a  hill,  until  the  pay-dirt  was 
reached.  As  these  rude  tunnels  were  easily  dug,  and  the 
gold  so  found  was  coarse,  the  temptation  to  carry  on  that 
eort  of  mining  was  great.  Hi  declared  in  favor  of  hill- 
diggings. 

But  Mont  and  Barnard  had  found  a  place  rearer  tho 
camp,  which  promise  1  better.  Besides,  it  was  the  only 
kind  of  mining  that  they  knew  anything  about,  and  they 
were  afraid  of  any  new  experiments.  Hi  was  obstinate, 
and,  moreover  he  was  tired,  he  said,  of  the  old  way, 


268  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

which  Lad  not  been  profitable  enough.  He  wanted  to  gel 
his  money — lots  of  it — and  leave.  Miners  were  already 
going  back  to  the  States  with  their  "  piles."  Poor  Hi 
thought  he  must  make  his  "  pile  "  right  away,  and  leave 
for  home. 

Mont  and  Barnard  shook  their  heads  sorrowfully. 
Mont  kindly  argued  the  matter  with  their  obstinate  com 
rade.  But  Barney  indignantly  blurted  out,  "  Why,  you 
wouldn't  burst  up  the  partnership,  would  you  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Hi,  doggedly.  "  I'll  go  into  the  hill-dig- 
gin's  myself,  if  you  don't.  That  is,  Tom  and  I." 

"Tom  and  I  indeed,"  broke  in  that  young  person. 
"  I'd  like  to  know  what  makes  you  think  I'd  go  along 
with  you.  I'm  goin'  to  stay  with  the  rest  of  the  crowd. 
If  you  want  to  git,  git !  " 

"  See  yere,  youngster,"  said  Hiram,  red  with  anger, 
"  you  are  to  go  where  I  go.  I'm  yer  gardeen ;  if  you  don't 
go  with  me,  where's  yer  pardner  ?  Who'll  ye  work  with  ? 
The  chances  are  all  taken." 

"  I  allow  I'll  work  for  myself,"  said  the  boy,  sullenly, 
but  somewhat  in  doubt. 

«  We're  very  sorry  to  have  you  think  of  going,"  said 
Mont ;  "  but  if  you  must  go,  Tom  may  as  well  go  with  you. 
Isn't  that  so,  boys  ?  " 

The  rest  of  the  party  took  this  view  of  the  case,  arid  after 
much  consultation,  it  was  agreed  that  Hi  should  draw 
out  of  the  partnership,  take  his  and  Tom's  share  of  the 
profits,  and  strike  out  for  himself.  The  boys  were  all 
eorry  over  this  first  break  in  their  company. 

They  sat  uneasily  about  their  cabin,  in  an  embarrassed 
way,  as  if  there  was  to  bo  a  ceremony  of  some  sort  which 
they  dreaded  to  meet. 

"  Hang  it  ail !  "  said  Hi,  with  a  shamefaced  look.     "  J 


A  8EPAEATION  AND  A  CALAMITY.  269 

allow  it  is  powerful  mean  for  me  to  quit  and  go  off  by 
myself.  D'ye  'spose  it'll  pay,  after  all  ? " 

"You're  the  best  judge  of  that,"  said  Barney,  coldly. 
"  It's  your  own  proposition." 

"  No,  no,"  broke  in  Arty,  eagerly,  and  leaning  ov(  r  tho 
table  towards  Hi.  "  Share  and  share  alike  is  always  Letter 
than  going  it  alone,  you  know.  It's  more  sociable,  any 
how." 

Hf s  eyes  softened  a  little  as  he  looked  in  the  blight 
face  of  the  lad  ;  but  just  then  his  hand  struck  the  heavy 
canvas  pouch  in  which  his  and  Tom's  portion  of  the  com 
pany's  savings  had  been  put.  He  drew  a  long,  hard 
breath,  and  said,  "  I  allow  I'll  try  the  hill-diggin's." 

At  Arty's  suggestion,  Hi  and  Tom  decided  to  mess 
with  the  boys  for  the  present.  The  spot  which  Hi  had 
fixed  upon  for  his  trial  at  tunnelling  was  not  so  far  from 
the  cabin  that  he  could  not  come  back  at  night,  get  his 
supper,  and  sleep. 

Hi  was  secretly  glad  to  make  this  arrangement.  He 
would  be  willing  to  endure  some  additional  fatigue  rather 
than  lodge  elsewhere  than  with  his  old  comrades.  Be 
sides,  as  he  craftily  argued  with  himself,  it  would  be 
more  economical. 

Hi  took  possession  of  a  hole,  or  tunnel,  which  some 
body  had  begun  to  drive  into  a  hill  just  above  Table 
Mountain,  to  the  north.  Near  this  were  two  or  three  good 
claims  in  which  men  were  busily  at  work  and  taking  out 
gold.  Hi's  tunnel  had  been  begun  by  two  or  three  user, 
from  Poverty  Hill,  the  deserted  village  on  the  divide. 
When  the  rush  from  Poverty  Hill  to  Rattlesnake  Bar  waa 
made  early  in  the  spring,  said  a  friendly  Hoosiertown  set 
tler,  these  miners  had  tried  1  heir  luck  at  river  mining  on 
Iloosier  Creek.  A  week's  work  disgusted  them,  when 


270  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

they  essayed  hill  diggings,  put  in  a  few  feet  of  tunnel 
ling,  and  then  were  off  to  Trinity  River — away  up  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  State. 

Hi  now  entered  into  their  labors,  accompanied  with 
much  grumbling  by  Tom.  As  for  Barnard,  Mont,  Arthur, 
and  Johnny,  after  prospecting  about  the  flat  near  Hoosier- 
town,  they  took  up  and  worked  in  a  claim,  not  much 
unlike  that  which  they  had  held  at  Crowbait.  They  met 
with  fair  success  at  once,  and,  within  a  week,  they 
"  cleaned  np  "  eight  hundred  dollars.  This  was  encour 
aging.  Hi,  whose  first  question,  when  weary  and  fagged, 
he  reached  the  cabin  at  night  was  always,  "  What  luck 
to-day,  boys  ? "  heard  the  good  news  with  ill-concealed 
chagrin,  though  he  tried  hard  to  rejoice  heartily  in  the 
good  fortune  of  his  late  comrades. 

Nevertheless,  Hi  soon  struck  the  pay  streak  and  began 
to  bring  home  every  night  a  goodly  harvest  from  his  day's 
work.  Three  ounces,  four  ounces,  five  ounces,  and  even 
ten  ounces,  did  he  turn  out  of  his  buckskin  bag,  at  the  end 
of  some  day  of  labor.  He  spread  the  golden  grains  on  the 
surface  of  their  rude  table,  caressing  the  heap  with  real 
joy.  Sixteen  dollars  to  the  ounce  was  the  rate  of  reckoning 
gold  in  those  days,  and  at  this  rate,  Hi  had  done  well,  for 
he  had  only  just  begun  to  work  into  the  pay  dirt.  He  was 
very  much  elated  by  his  good  luck,  and  if  everybody  else 
had  not  been  too  busy  with  his  own  concerns  to  bother 
about  those  of  others,  he  would  have  had  the  reputation  ol 
being  a  highly  successful  miner.  As  it  was,  his  great 
wealth  was  chiefly  in  the  f  ut  ure. 

The  whole  company,  meanwhile,  got  on  very  harmoni 
ously  in  their  cabin.  They  all  went  to  work  in  the  morning, 
taking  their  dinner  with  them.  At  night  they  met  around 
their  supper,  talked  over  the  events  of  the  day,  and  specu 


A  SEPARATION  AND  A  CALAMITY.  271 

lated  on  the  possibilities  of  to-morrow.  It  wao  a  simple 
sort  of  life.  They  enjoyed  it,  and  Nance,  commonly  known 
in  the  camp  as  "  Dobbs's  gal,"  was  kind  enough  to  receive 
a  call  from  them  once  in  a  while,  or  drop  in  and  giro 
Arthur  and  Johnny  a  needless  hint  about  cooking  bacon 
and  bread,  which  articles  yet  remained  the  staple  of  their 
fare. 

Hi  regarded  Nance  with  bashful  aversion.  She  made 
him  blush  in  spite  of  himself;  and  once,  when  she  re 
proved  him  for  using  slang,  he  grew  very  angry,  and  said 
,*he  was  "  putting  on  airs."  It  must  be  confessed  that  the 
girl  grew  womanly,  sedate,  and  almost  dignified.  She  never 
seemed  to  forget  that  she  was  "  the  only  young  lady  in  the 
camp." 

"  Cut  for  home,  boys,"  said  Barney,  cheerily,  one  after 
noon.  "  The  sun  is  down  behind  the  lone  pine,  and  it's 
time  you  were  getting  supper  ready." 

Arty  and  Johnny  very  gladly  dropped  their  tools  and 
climbed  the  hill  which  lay  between  the  claim  and  Iloosier- 
town.  The  sun  was  sinking  low,  and  as  the  lads  passed 
over  the  brow  of  the  hill  and  began  to  descend  the  slope 
on  the  other  side,  they  could  see  the  broken,  perpendicular 
walls  of  Table  Mountain  gilded  with  yellow  light. 

The  nearest  edge  of  the  mountain  was  low  in  places, 
with  benches  or  ledges,  running  along  just  above  the  road 
which  wound  through  the  valley  at  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tain.  As  the  hurrying  boys  paused  for  an  instant  am.i 
looked  off  over  the  landscape,  bathed  in  the  setting  sun,  Arry 
BUW  the  figure  of  a  man  stooping  and  running  along  the 
precipitous  edge  of  the  distant  cliff,  and  occasionally  stop 
ping  as  if  to  watch  something  moving  along  the  road  be 
neath,  which  was  not  in  sight  from  where  the  boy  stood 
on  the  distant  hill.  Like  a  bird  of  prey,  the  man  swif tlj 


272  THE  B°Y  EMIGRANTS. 

ran  ai  d  watched,  tlien  stooped  and  ran,  and  watched  again. 
Now  and  then  he  made  a  motion  as  if  to  drop  something 
from  his  hand  into  the  road  beneath  his  feet.  Then  ha 
eccmed  to  think  better  of  it,  and  he  ran  on,  watching  and 
waiting. 

"  Curious  critter  that,"  muttered  Arty. 

"  Pshaw !  it  looks  like  Bill  Bunce,"  answered  Johnny, 
with  a  little  start  of  disgust.  "  Let's  run,"  and  with  that  he 
trotted  towards  home  as  fast  as  his  tired  legs  could  carry 
him. 

Just  then  the  strange  figure  across  the  valley,  now  near 
the  angle  which  Table  Mountain  makes  where  the  valley 
opens  out  towards  Hoosiertown,  let  fall  something  which 
seemed  to  be  a  heavy  stone.  Then  he  quickly  pitched  down 
another  and  another.  Then  he  jumped  over  the  edge  of 
the  cliff  and  scrambled  down  out  of  sight  towards  the  road 
below. 

"  Queer  boy  Johnny  is ;  always  thinking  of  Bill  Bunce ! " 
so  said  Arty  to  himself,  as  he  bounded  along  light-heart 
edly  and  overtook  his  comrade. 

When  they  reached  the  cabin,  Tom  was  there  before 
them,  and  was  already  chopping  the  fire-wood  for  their 
evening  cooking,  and  grumbling  about  his  brother. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "Hi's  always  higgling  and  haggling. 
He's  afraid  to  leave  the  leastest  speck  of  gold  anywhere 
about  that  confounded  old  tunnel  over  night.  There's  no 
thieves  about.  Honest  country,  I  say.  But  Hi,  he's  drefllc 
suspicious.  Sly  folks  always  is." 

Arty  remonstrated  with  Tom  foi  holding  such  a  mean 
opinion  of  his  brother,  and  Barney  and  Mount,  who  soon 
came  over  the  hill,  rebuked  the  lad  for  not  staying  with 
Hi  tc  help  him  clear  up  his  day's  work. 

"  Hi  is  a  good  brother,  anyhow,"  said  Barnard  heartily, 


A  SEPARATION  AND  A  CALAMITY.  273 

as  lie  blew  the  water  off  his  red  face,  and  began  tc  polish 
it  with  a  coarse  towel.  "  And,  my  little  man,  it  stands  you 
in  hand  to  hold  up  your  end  of  the  yoke,  as  Arty  says. 
Still,  Hi  is  late  to-night." 

Just  then  four  or  five  red-shirted  miners,  bearing  some 
strange  burden,  came  out  from  the  mouth  of  the  valley 
above  and  made  straight  for  the  cabin  where  our  boys  were 
making  ready  for  supper. 

They  seemed  to  be  carrying  a  wounded  man ;  and  as  they 
drew  nearer,  the  tender-hearted  Barney  burst  out  with, 
h  My  grief !  it's  poor  old  Hi !  "  And  so  it  was.  The  miners, 
coming  home  from  work,  had  encountered  a  figure  sitting 
up  in  the  dust  and  feebly  trying  to  rise.  There  was  a 
ghastly  wound  on  the  top  of  his  head.  His  hair  was  clotted, 
and  dark  red  stains  were  on  his  face.  Groping  about  in  the 
dazzling  light  of  the  sun,  then  level  with  the  valley,  Hi, 
for  the  miners  recognized  Hi  Fender,  had  murmured 
something  indistinctly,  and  had  become  unconscious. 

The  poor  fellow  was  laid  upon  his  bunk.  Mont  said  af 
once,  "  We  must  have  a  doctor." 

"  Thar's  nary  doctor  round  hyar,"  said  one  of  the  miners, 
roughly  but  kindly.  "  Yer  pard's  hurt  powerful  bad.  He 
may  as  well  pass  in  his  checks." 

"  Perhaps  doctorin'  will  do  him  no  good.  But  there's  a 
young  chap  down  to  Smith's  Bar  who  does  something  in 
that  line." 

It  seemed  an  age  to  the  sorrowful,  anxious  group  in  tlio 
cabin  while  Barney,  mounted  on  the  only  steed  in  tho 
camp,  a  fiery  mustang,  rode  to  Smith's  Bar,  four  mile^ 
away,  and  brought  back  the  doctor. 

Meanwhile,  Mont  and  Arthur   bathed  poor  Hi  s  hend, 
cleansed  his  face,  and  tried  to  relieve  his  sufferings.     I  Le 
only  groaned  and  made  no  sign  of  intelligence. 
12* 


274:  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

Tom,  hoavy-hearted  and  remorseful,  went  on  with  the 
cooking  of  supper  in  an  absent-minded  way.  The  men 
who  had  brought  Hi  home  said,  "  Just  send  word  over  to 
yon  blue  tent,  if  there's  anything  we  can  do  for  you  — 
whisky,  camphire,  watchers,  or  anything  the  like  of  that." 
Then  they  went  their  wav. 


A  STRANGE  UASE.  275 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A   STBANGE   CASE. 

MONT  scrutinized  with  some  sharpness  and  anxiety  tie 
doctor  from  Smith's  Bar.  He  was  a  tall,  lithe,  sinewy 
young  fellow,  with  a  long,  full  beard,  like  a  tangle  of  flax, 
a  worn  face,  and  cold,  gray  eyes.  He  wore  a  slouch  hat 
and  a  blue  flannel  shirt ;  his  trousers  were  tucked  into  his 
boots,  and  a  belt  at  his  waist  carried  a  little  wallet,  where 
less  peaceable  people  usually  wore  a  pistol. 

Arty  was  immediately  disgusted  with  the  cold,  hard 
way  with  which  the  young  doctor  asked  a  few  questions 
about  the  accident,  and  with  the  business-like  and  unsym 
pathetic  manner  with  which  he  studied  the  wounds  of 
the  unconscious  Hi,  who  still  lay  breathing  heavily  and 
unable  to  speak. 

"  A  queer-looking  doctor,  I  must  say,"  muttered  Mont 
to  himself,  very  much  dissatisfied  with  his  general  appear 
ance.  And  his  thoughts  went  back  to  the  white-haired, 
dignified  physician  of  his  New  England  home,  a  man 
whose  presence  seemed  to  shed  a  balm  of  healing  wherever 
he  went.  But  when  Dr.  Carson  tenderly  lifted  Hi's 
wounded  head,  dressed  the  poor  mangled  scalp  with  light 
swiftness,  and  cleansed,  with  all  of  a  woman's  skilfulness 
of  touch,  the  places  that  the  boys  had  not  dared  to  touch, 
Mont  changed  his  mind,  and  Barney  and  Arty  looked  on 
with  grateful  admiration. 

"  I  will  stay  with  you  until  he  recovers  consciousness," 
eaid  the  doctor.  "  He  will  rally  presently." 


270  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

it  was  now  late  into  the  night,  but  nobody  cared  to 
Bleep  until  they  knew  whether  life  or  death  was  before 
their  comrade.  Dr.  Carson  had  spoken  cheerily,  but  ho 
had  given  no  opinion  ;  none  had  been  asked,  and  the  boys 
dropped  wearily  about,  while  the  doctor,  with  his  chin 
resting  on  his  hand,  sat  steadfastly  and  thoughtfully  re 
garding  Hi. 

Presently  the  young  fellow  stirred  out  of  his  long  trance, 
and,  moving  his  hand,  heavily  whispered :  "  The  other 
pocket !  the  other  pocket !  " 

The  doctor  started  forward  to  catch  the  words,  when 
Hi,  calmly  opening  his  eyes,  looked  up  at  him  with  sur 
prise  and  said,  "  Well,  what  of  it  ? " 

Dr.  Carson  smiled  and  said,  pleasantly  :  "  So  it  was  the 
other  pocket,  was  it  ?  " 

Hi  looked  at  him  with  a  queer,  puzzled  air,  and  feebly 
replied  :  "  I  don't  know  about  that.  Was  1  hurt  much  ? " 

"Not  much  to  speak  of,  my  man.  But  I  wouldn't  talk 
about  it  now.  In  the  morning  you  can  tell  us  all  about 
it." 

But  Hi  persisted.  "  I  always  allowed  that  there  tunnel 
would  cave.  I  meant  to  have  timbered  it  to-morrow  or 
next  day."  And  here  Hi  painfully  raised  his  hand  to  hia 
head,  shuddered,  and,  as  if  shocked  at  the  discovery  of 
his  wounds,  relapsed  into  unconsciousness  again. 

The  gray  dawn  was  struggling  into  the  cabin,  when 
Arty,  sick  and  faint  with  waiting  and  watching,  awoke 
Jroin  an  uneasy  sleep  on  the  floor.  The  young  doctor 
slill  sat,  alert  and  vigilant,  by  the  side  of  Ili's  bunk; 
Mont  was  near  at  hand  with  all  his  usual  freshness  and 
helpfulness.  Barney  slept  with  his  head  leaning  forward 
on  the  table,  while  Tom  and  Johnny  were  yet  sound  asleeD 
in  their  ( wn  places. 


A  STRANGE  CASE.  277 

Hi  had  asked  for  water  once  or  twice  during  the  night, 
but  beyond  that  he  had  made  no  sign  of  coming  back  to 
life.  So  they  sat  and  watched  and  waited.  The  bright 
morning  rose  up  fresh  and  clear  over  Table  Mountain, 
Hooding  the  valley  with  its  redness.  Sounds  of  early 
labor  came  from  the  scattered  cabins  in  the  flat.  The 
creaking  of  the  flutter-wheels  which  had  kept  on  through 
the  night  was  now  confused  with  other  noises,  as  the 
miners  began  another  day's  work.  Smoke  curled  from 
the  rude  chimneys  of  Hoosiertown ;  faint  odors  of  frying 
meat  floated  on  the  tranquil  air,  and  two  or  three  red 
shirted  citizens,  groping  their  way  out  into  the  light, 
stretched  themselves  heavily  and  yawned  with  a  tremen 
dous  yawn,  the  echoes  of  which  reached  Arty,  where  he 
sat  against  the  wall  of  the  cabin  looking  out,  sad-eyed  and 
dejected,  through  the  open  door. 

Mrs.  Dobbs,  who  had  been  often  by  the  sick  man's  side 
the  night  before,  now  put  her  head  in  at  the  door  and 
whispered  :  "  How  is  he  by  this  time  ?  " 

The  doctor  said  :  "  He's  looking  better." 

Then  Hi  suddenly  awoke  and  said  :  "  You  allow  it's  a 
pretty  bad  hurt,  do  you,  mister  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but  you  will  come  out  till 
right ;  don't  worry  about  it.  Yoii  are  feeling  pretty  well 
now  ? " 

"  Right  peart,  'cept  about  the  head.  My  head  is  *,s 
light  as  a  feather.  Oh,  yes,  I  remember  it  all  now.  The 
tunnel  caved  in  on  me.  When  I  felt  the  rock  coming 
down  on  me,  and  heard  'em  patterin'  on  my  head  and 
shoulders,  I  made  for  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel.  I  just 
remember  how  the  sun  blazed  into  my  eyes  when  I  stag 
gered  out  on  the  side-hill,  It  seemed  as  if  the  world  v:$* 


278  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

all.  afire,  comin'  out  of  that  there  dark  hole,  and  facing 
the  glare  of  the  sun. 

"  Well,  well,  I  wouldn't  go  on  no  more  about  it  now, 
Hi,"  said  Mrs.  Dobbs.  "  The  doctor  says  you  must  be 
kopt  quiet." 

But,  though  urged  to  keep  still,  Hi  continued :  "  I  allow 
I  must  have  put  for  home.  I  saw  the  road.  It  was  all 
red  dust,  and  the  sun  poured  down  over  it.  But  I  disre- 
member  how  I  got  over  it.  It  appears  like  I  was  carried." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mont,  "  the  fellows  over  to  the  blue  tent 
were  coming  up  from  their  claim.  They  saw  you  sitting 
in  the  road,  wounded,  and  they  brought  you  home." 

"  Good  fellows,  those  blue  tent  chaps.  Whereabouts 
was  I  then  ?  " 

"  Just  at  the  angle  of  the  road,  where  it  breaks  around 
the  Mountain." 

"What  ?  away  down  there  !  "  exclaimed  Hi.  "Why,  I 
must  have  staggered  along  right  smart.  Certainly  I  disre- 
member  anything  that  happened  after  I  got  out  into  the 
sunlight." 

The  doctor  here  put  in  his  emphatic  protest  against  Hi's 
having  any  more  talk.  So  the  wounded  man  lay  quite 
still,  muttering  to  himself :  "  Cur'ous  !  cur'ous  1 " 

Although  Hoosiertown  was  a  busy  place,  the  good- 
hearted  miners  found  time  to  call  at  the  cabin  and  inquire 
how  Hi  was  getting  on,  and  to  bring  little  gifts  to  the 
in  valid. 

In  a  day  or  two  he  grew  weaker  and  more  infirm  in 
his  mind,  and  sometimes  he  seemed  wandering  and  "limy," 
as  Nance  expressed  it.  The  girl  was  very  helpful  to  the 
distressed  family,  but  Arty  was  quite  out  of  patience  with 
her  shyness.  She  was  as  bright  and  impertinent  as  evei 
at  times;  but  usually  she  seemed  so  dignified  and  reserved 


A  STRANGE  CASE.  279 

that  Arty  quite  agreed  with  Tom,  who  pronounced  hei 
"  stuck  up." 

Dr.  Carson  came  and  went  every  day,  and  looked  on 
Hi's  frequent  lapses  of  mind  with  some  anxiety.  On 
one  of  these  occasions,  Hi,  as  if  struggling  with  some 
imaginary  foe,  painfully  muttered  :  "  Don't  strike  again. 
Don't !  Don't !  It's  in  the  other  pocket !  " 

"  Oh,  sho  !  "  said  Tom,  "  he's  always  saying  that  when 
he  has  those  spells." 

"  Always  saying  that?"  asked  the  doctor,  sharply.  He 
had  been  watching  Hiram ;  but  he  could  make  nothing 
eatisfactory  out  of  the  case. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Tom,  "  two  or  three  times,  when  he  has 
had  these  wandering  spells,  he  talks  like  that.  And  ho 
talks  all  sorts  of  ridiculous  things.  Drivin'  cattle,  and  so 
on." 

Dr.  Carson  was  puzzled.  When  Hi  grew  better  he 
asked  him  about  the  accident.  Hi  was  very  clear  in  his 
Btory.  He  perfectly  remembered  the  caving  in  of  the 
tunnel.  He  felt  the  rocks  fall  on  his  head  and  shoulders ; 
but  most  completely  he  recalled  to  mind  how  the  bright 
sunshine  dazzled  his  eyes  when  he  came  out  to  the  mouth 
of  the  tunnel,  and  how  red  the  dusty  road  under  the  bluff 
looked,  as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  it  and  fell.  It  was  a 
clear  case  to  him.  "  I  allow  I  know  what  happened,"  he 
gaid,  witli  some  impatience. 

Hiram  murmured  and  fretted  over  this  loss  of  time. 
"  It  was  just  his  luck,"  he  said,  "  to  be  laid  up  when  he  was 
on  the  edge  of  a  good  streak  of  dirt."  But  he  consoled 
himself  with  the  reflection  that  his  last  day's  work  was  a 
good  one. 

"  Must  have  had  ten  or  twelve  ounces,"  he  chuckled 
"  .By  the  way,  where  is  that  there  bag?" 


280  THE  BOY  EMI  GRANTS. 

Nobody  had  seen  it.  Hi  had  been  in  the  habi:  of 
bringing  home  the  result  of  his  day's  work  in  a  buckskin 
bag,  which  had  been  a  company  affair.  Arty  had  printed 
"  Bostons  "  on  it  with  pen  and  ink  ;  and  a  scorched  mark 
near  the  mouth  of  it  gave  it  another  feature.  But  that 
particular  bag  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Nobody  had 
seen  it  since  the  day  when  Hi  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and 
had  gone  to  work  on  that  unfortunate  day.  Hi  was  sure 
that  he  had  his  gold  in  it  when  he  left  the  tunnel.  He 
had  crammed  it  into  the  left-hand  pocket  of  his  jacket, 
for  he  was  just  ready  to  leave  the  tunnel  when  the  crash 
came.  But  it  was  not  in  the  garments  which  he  wore 
that  day. 

"  I  must  have  dropped  it  when  I  staggered  down  the 
hill.  Some  of  you  boys  go  look  for  it,  won't  you  ?  You'll 
find  it  in  the  grass  along  the  trail,  maybe,  or  at  the  mouth 
of  the  tunnel." 

Tom  and  Johnny  darted  off  to  look.  They  were  gone 
an  hour  or  two,  but  found  no  pouch.  Hi  fretted  and 
worried. 

"  Did  you  go  into  the  tunnel  ? "  he  demanded. 

"Of  course  not,"  replied  Tom,  sharply.  "We  just 
looked  in  a  little  ways.  You  must  have  dropped  it  on  the 
trail  and  somebody  pic  ked  it  up." 

"  Oh,  you  shiftless !  "  scolded  Hi.  "  I'll  look  myself  as 
soon  as  I  get  out." 

But  the  poor  fellow  did  not  get  out  as  soon  as  he  ex 
pected.  He  recovered  "slowly,  and  his  spells  of  mental 
wandering  returned  frequently,  to  the  great  distress  of 
his  comrades. 

They  made  no  account  of  his  queer  mutterings.  He 
was  continually  talking  in  a  vague  way,  and  about  all 
sorts  of  things,  when  his  mind  was  thus  unsettled.  lie 


A  STRANGE  CASE.  281 

seemed  to  be  in  a  kind  of  nightrr-are  at  such  times.  lie 
raved  incessantly  about  gold.  Gold  was  the  burden  of 
hie  talk,  and  if  he  was  not  picking  it  up  in  his  dreams,  lie 
was  defending  his  treasure  against  the  assaults  of  imagi 
i  ary  robbers,  with  whom  he  often  pleaded:  "Don't  strike 
Die  again  !  It's  in  the  other  pocket !  " 

Dr.  Carson  questioned  Hi  about  his  accident,  when  ho 
was  in  full  possession  of  his  senses.  He  weighed  his  words 
and  vigilantly  watched  him  while  ho  was  awake  or  asleep, 
and  when  he  was  wandering  in  his  mind.  There  was  no 
clue  to  his  wild  talk.  But  the  doctor  was  sure  that  the 
wounds  on  Hi's  head  were  not  made  by  a  caving  wall. 

One  day,  having  asked  for  the  shortest  way  to  the  tun 
nel,  Dr.  Carson  rode  up  to  that  long-neglected  work.  Dis 
mounting,  he  lighted  a  candle,  which  he  found  laid  in  a 
rift  of  rock,  just  where  Hi  had  left  it,  and  stepped  care 
fully  into  the  tunnel.  It  had  been  run  in  about  twenty 
feet.  Groping  along,  he  soon  reached  the  face  wall  at  the 
end  where  Ili's  pick  and  shovel  lay  as  he  left  them,  weeks 
ago.  The  roof  was  as  solid  and  firm  as  ever.  The  few 
rough  pi-ops  put  in  to  support  it  were  all  there.  There 
had  been  no  cave. 

Amazed,  yet  partly  relieved,  the  doctor  felt  his  way 
back  to  the  light,  blew  out  his  taper  and  sat  down  to  think. 
There  was  the  flood  of  sunlight,  just  as  Hi  saw  it ;  and  the 
red  road,  which  met  his  eye  as  he  staggered  ont,  still 
wound  down  to  the  camp. 

When  Dr  Carson  returned  and  gravely  said :  "  There 
aras  no  cave  in  the  tunnel,"  everybody  echoed :  "  No 
cave?" 

Hi  said:  "I'll  have  to  take  your  word  for  it,  doctor. 
But  I'll  give  you  my  word  that  that  there  tunnel  did  cave 
and  bust  my  crust,  so  now!  " 


282  I 'XX  ^OY  EMI GIIA  A  TO. 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

NEWS   AND   DISCOVERIES. 

"LETTERS!  letters!"  shouted  Arthur,  with  giett  glee, 
one  night,  as  the  tired  miners  came  up  to  their  cabin  from 
the  claim.  They  had  had  good  luck  during  the  past  few 
days;  but  even  the  sight  of  much  gold,  now  no  longer 
strange,  could  not  wholly  relieve  the  feeling  of  weariness 
which  comes  from  long  and  exacting  labor.  The  glimpse 
of  a  bundle  of  letters  from  home,  which  Arty  snook  in 
their  faces  as  they  approached  the  cabin,  banished  all  fa 
tigue.  Nothing  was  so  precious  as  these  much- worn 
packets  of  news  and  loving  messages  from  friends  far 
away.  They  had  been  handled  a  great  deal  since  they 
arrived  in  San  Francisco.  Bearing  the  marks  of  travel, 
as  wrell  as  the  queer  red  and  blue  stamps  of  the  express 
companies,  these  letters  had  hunted  for  the  young  emi 
grants  all  the  way  from  Sacramento  and  Kye's  Ranch 
through  various  diggings  and  camps.  A  bright-eyed, 
alert-looking  yoiing  fellow,  mounted  on  a  scrubby  but 
speedy  mustang,  had  dashed  into  town,  dropped  a  few 
packages  at  "  Freeman  &  Co.'s  agency,"  bandied  compli 
ments  with  the  loungers  about  the  place,  mounted  his 
fcteed  again,  and  had  loped  off  in  a  more  leisurely  way 
towards  Sardine  Gulch. 

Dropping  his  preparations  for  supper,  Arty  had  raced 
across  "•  the  branch  "  to  the  store,  where  he  was  rewarded 
with  a  huge  package  of  letters,  for  which  the  enormou* 


NEWS  AND  DISCO VERIES.  283 

express  charges  seemed  to  him  a  small  price.  Letter- 
carriage  in  those  days  was  costly;  nobody  knew  what  tht 
rates  were  ;  they  varied  every  week,  but  anywhere  from 
a  dollar  to  five  dollars  for  a  single  letter — the  original 
postage  on  which  was  ten  or  twenty  cents — was  not 
thought  an  unreasonable  charge.  The  boys  murmured 
sometimes,  when  they  had  lead  their  infrequent  letters 
many  times  ;  but  nobody  thought  of  grumbling  until  the 
first  excitement  of  receiving  letters  was  over,  and  the 
brisk  young  express-rider  was  far  away. 

A  pleasant  excitement  reigned  in  the  cabin  of  the  young 
miners  while  news  from  home  was  read  and  discussed 
The  Sugar  Grove  folks  had  received  their  California  gold 
with  great  pride  and  delight.  The  neighbors  had  all  been 
in  to  look  at  it  before  it  was  taken  to  town  and  sold. 
Other  Lee  County  people,  scattered  through  California, 
had  sent  home  gold,  but  the  brothers  of  Barnard  and 
Arthur  wrote  that  no  such  gold  as  this  had  ever  been 
seen  before  in  those  parts.  How  proud  and  thankful  they 
were !  The  mortgage  on  the  farm  was  now  to  be  paid 
off ;  brother  Sam  was  to  have  the  double-barrelled  shot 
gun  (which  he  had  long  coveted)  before  the  season  for 
prairie-chickens  came  again.  The  mother  had  bought  a 
new  rocking-chair  for  father ;  and  there  was  even  some 
talk  of  having  a  hired  girl  to  help  about  the  house. 

Arty  read  and  re  read  these  simple  details  of  the  far 
away  home-life  with  glistening  eyes,  and  then  looked  out 
on  the  ragged  mining-camp,  the  turbid  creek,  the  hill 
sides  covered  with  furze  and  chaparral,  and  wondered  if 
it  were  possible  that  these  existed  on  the  same  planet  that 
held  his  old  home — the  tidy  Lee  County  farm. 

Hi,  who  was  now  able  to  get  about  his  work  after  a 
feeble  fashion,  grew  pensive  over  hie  letters,  and  began tc 


284  1  HE  X()  Y  EMJG  It  A  Nl  W. 

think  that  home  was,  after  al1,  a  better  place  for  him  that 
this,  even  though  he  should  not  carry  a  fortune  to  it. 
M  nt  encouraged  this  idea  ;  and  he,  too,  looked  up  from 
the  finely-written  pages  which  had  come  all  the  way  from 
New  England  to  him,  with  a  bright  face  and  tenderness 
ni  his  eyes. 

Most  of  all,  however,  were  the  boys  interested  in  an  ox 
traordinary  letter  which  Johnny  received  from  a  lawyer 
in  Richardson.  Fanner  Stevens  had  put  into  this  man's 
hands  all  the  facts  about  Johnny's  parentage  and  sup 
posed  wrongs,  and  he  had  traced  up  the  case  as  far  aa 
possible.  Mr.  Stevens  wrote  to  his  boys  that  there  was  a 
good  prospect  of  recovering  the  property  which  Johnny's 
faithless  guardian  had  taken  possession  of,  but  some  legal 
documents  were  needed  ;  and  the  lawyer  had  written  to 
Johnny  to  inform  him  of  all  that  had  been  done.  This  ia 
the.  lawyer's  letter,  written  in  a  stiff,  upright  hand : 

RICHARDSON,  LEE  COUNTY,  ILLS.,  April  9, 18 — . 
MASTER  J.  F.  BLUEBAKER. 

RESPECTED  SIR  :  I  have  to  communicate  to  you  the  following 
facts  concerning  your  case,  which  I  have  undertaken  at  the  instance  of 
Obadiah  L.  Stevens,  Esq. ,  a  worthy  citizen  of  Sugar  Grove  Township, 
this  county,  with  whose  sons,  or  other  relatives,  I  understand  you  are 
associated  in  business. 

To  wit :  Ophelia  Bluebaker,  maiden  name  Jenness,  your  mother,  as 
I  now  understand  the  case,  was  left  a  widow  with  one  child,  name, 
John  Francis  Bluebaker,  about  seven  years  ago.  The  widow  resided 
near  Oregon,  Ogle  County,  this  State,  where  she  held  legal  possessiou 
of  landed  property,  stock,  fixtures,  agricultural  implements,  the  schod- 
<aJe  of  which  cow  exists  in  the  Probate  Court  Records  of  said  Ogle 
County,  Oregon  being  the  shire  town  thereof.  In  iue  process  of  nature, 
Mrs.  Bluebaker  died,  leaving  her  infant  s  >n  to  the  guardianship  of  her 
brother,  one  John  F.  Jenness,  a  veterinary  surgeon,  commonly  called  a 
horse-doctor,  of  Lick  Spriugs,  Vermillion  County,  this  State. 

The  property  hereinbefore  mentioned  passed  with  the  boy  (who  vaa, 
i  beg  Ivave  to  say,  youi'self/  into  the  custody  of  said  Jeunesa.  Flii* 


NE  WS  A ND  DISCO  VERIE3.  285 

I>er8on,  being  the  only  surviving  relative  of  Mrs.  Bluebaker,  youi  re 
spected  mother,  except  yourself,  RCPIUS  to  have  conceived  the  idea  of 
secreting  or  otherwise  fraudulently  disposing  of  the  lad — meaning  your 
self.  Jenness,  commonly  called  Dr.  Jeuness,  as  nearly  as  I  can  discover, 
had  already  managed  to  convert  to  his  own  use  and  behoof  a  portion 
of  the  income  of  the  estate  of  the  late  Bluebaker;  and,  if  the  facts 
which  come  to  me  are  trustworthy,  he  employed  one  William  Bunce 
and  Ephraim  W.  Mullet  to  carry  the  boy,  meaning-  yourself,  to  Cali 
fornia,  and  "lose"  him  on  the  way.  For  this  unlawful  service  said 
Bunce  and  Mullet  were  to  receive  an  outfit  for  California,  and  the  boy 
was  to  be  provided  with  a  Bum  of  money  which  would  subsist  him  for  a 
time  if  left  in  a  strange  place ;  but  it  may  occur  to  an  unprejudiced 
person  that  the  money  given  to  the  boy,  which  was  in  gold,  might  also 
have  been  intended  to  tempt  the  ruffians  to  dealing  foully  with  him. 

These  facts  are  partly  derived  from  the  admissions  which  the  said  W. 
Bunce  has  made  to  the  Messrs.  Stevens,  Morse,  and  Fender,  in  California. 
But  they  are,  with  additions,  confirmed  by  the  affidavits  of  one  Polly 
Gardner,  an  inmate  and  housekeeper  in  the  family  of  the  late  Jenness 
I  say  the  late  Jenuess,  because  that  person  was  killed  by  being  thrown 
from  his  wagon,  in  February  last.  Proceedings  may  be  instituted  to 
recover  for  you  the  unexpended  portion  of  your  estate,  as  soon  as  you 
choose  a  legal  guardian  and  have  forwarded  to  your  attorney  (in  which 
capacity  I  should  be  pleased  to  serve  you)  the  necessary  papers.  I  am 
unfamiliar  with  the  laws  in  your  somewhat  unsettled  country;  but 
presume  that  a  power  of  attorney  given  to  Mr.  Stevens,  from  your 
guardian  when  chosen,  would  enable  him  to  institute  proceedings  to 
recover. 

I  have  the  honor,  sir,  to  subscribe  myself, 
Your  ob't  serv't, 

CYBIL  H.  DUFFER, 

Att'y-at-Law. 

P.  S.— It  may  interest  you  to  know  that  the  estate  hereinbefore 
referred  to  is  variously  estimated  by  experts,  who  are  neighbors,  at 
from  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  to  thirty  thousand  dollars  value. 

C.  H.D. 

*•'  What  a  prosy  old  duffer !  "  cried  Ton  ,  when  the  read 
ingwas  concluded. 

"  Twenty -five  or  thiity  thousand  dollars  !  "  said  Hi,  put 
ting  his  hand  painfully  to  his  head.  "  That's  a  powei  of 


286  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

money.  More'n  I  ever  hope  to  take  home  with  me 
Thirty  thousand  !  Well,  that  beats  me." 

"  You're  rich  before  us,  Johnny,"  said  Arty,  with  an 
honest  glow  of  satisfaction.  "  But,"  he  added  with  con 
cern,  you'll  have  to  leave  us  and  go  home  to  look  after 
your  property." 

"  Oh,  no,"  Mont  explained.  "  He  need  not  go  until  he 
gets  ready.  We  can  go  down  to  Sacramento,  or  to  the 
new  Mayor  at  Marysville,  and  have  the  papers  fixed  up 
for  him.  By  the  way,  Johnny,  what  are  you  going  to 
do  about  a  guardian  ?" 

"  A  guard een,"  repeated  Johnny,  with  a  troubled  air. 
"  Who  will  be  rny  guardeen  ?  Will  you,  Arty  ? " 

Everybody  laughed,  and  Mont  said  : 

"  No,  Johnny,  you  must  have  a  guardian  who  is  tv/enty- 
one  years  of  age.  Arty's  too  young,  you  know." 

"  Then  I'll  take  Barney,"  said  the  boy  quickly ;  and 
appealing  to  Barnard,  he  said :  "  Will  you  be  my  guar 
deen,  Barney  ?  I  must  have  one,  and  I  don't  know  any 
body  else,  scarcely,  but  you." 

"  Yes,"  cried  Barney  heartily,  "  I'll  be  your  guardian. 
But  I  shall  have  to  give  bonds,  I  suppose.  Shall  I  Mont?" 

Mont,  thus  appealed  to,  thought  all  that  could  be 
arranged  satisfactorily,  but  he  was  not  sure  about  the 
bonds ;  and  Johnny,  with  a  gleam  of  light  in  his  sober 
face,  put  his  hand  in  Barnard's,  and  said : 

"  Isn't  it  something  like  a  father-in-law,  this  guardeen  ?" 

The  matter  was,  on  the  whole,  easily  arranged.  It  waa 
not  necessary  to  go  to  Sacramento  in  ordei  to  secure  the 
necessary  legal  papers.  An  accommodating  magistrate 
\vas  found  nearer  home ;  and  though  the  machinery  of 
the  law  was  somewhat  rude  in  the  region  of  Horsier! ovn, 


NE WS  AND  DISCO  VERIES.  287 

it  satisfied  the  needs  of  the  young  miners,  and  the  papers 
were  made  out  and  sent  home. 

"  You  can  call  him  '  pap,'  I  suppose,  now,"  said  Tom, 
rather  enviously,  when  Barnard  was  declared  to  be  ihn 
lawful  guardian  of  Master  John  F.  Bluebaker. 

"  And  a  young-looking  father  he  is,  too ! "  struck  in 
Arty,  who  was  highly  amused  with  this  novel  turn  of 
affairs.  "  Call  him  '  guardy,'  Johnny ;  it's  just  as  good  as 
anything  else." 

"  I  never  called  anybody  l  pap,'  "  said  the  poor  boy.  "  I 
never  knew  anybody  to  call  '  father ; '  but  I'll  do  just  what 
Barney  says." 

"Never  mind,  my  laddie,"  said  Barnard.  "Call  me 
whatever  you  please.  But  I  don't  want  any  handle  to  my 
name.  '  Barney,'  or  even  '  Barney  Crogan,'  is  good  enough 
for  me,  although  that  young  scapegrace  of  a  brother  of 
mine  did  put  on  the  Crogan." 

"Now  don't  put  on  any  airs,  Barney  Crogan,"  joined  in 
Nance,  who  took  part  in  all  the  family  councils  on  the 
subject  of  Johnny's  future  prospects.  "Crogan  you  be, 
and  Crogan  you'll  stay,  guardeen  or  no  guardeen,  you  can 
jest  bet  yer — I  mean,  that  is,  you  may  be  very  sure,"  and 
Nance  coughed  violently  to  hide  her  confusion. 

"  Hello ! "  cried  Tom,  rudely,  "  if  Nance  didn't  come 
nigh  saying  'you  bet  yer  life,'  just  like  she  used  to.  Laws 
sakes  alive!  Miss  Nancy  Dobbs,  how  peart  you  have 
growed ! "  and  the  boy  minced  along  the  cabin  floor, 
stepping  on  the  tips  of  his  bare  toes  and  drawing  up  hia 
shoulders,  as  if  imitating  some  imaginary  fine  lady. 

The  girl  flashed  up  suddenly,  and  before  Tom  knew 
what  was  going  to  happen,  she  gave  him  such  a  cuff  that 
he  tumbled  headlong  into  a  corner,  where  he  fell  inglori- 
ously  into  a  confused  huddle  of  pots  and  pans. 


288  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

"Come,  now!  I  say,  Nance,  jest  you  strike  a  feller  :1 
your  size,  can't  you?"  And,  red  with  anger,  To  n  scra:n- 
bled  out  of  the  way  and  regarded  Nance  with  some  defi 
ance  as  well  as  shame. 

The  boys  laughed  at  Tom's  discomfiture,  but  Nance 
with  some  mortification  in  her  turn,  said  : 

"  I  beg  pardon,  Torn  ;  I  didn't  mean  to  cuff  you.  But 
if  you  give  me  any  of  your  chin — 1  mean  if  you  sass  mo 
that  way — well,  no  matter  what  I  mean."  And  Nance 
walked  off  without  another  word. 

"  There,  now!"  said  Hi,  angrily;  "you've  been  and 
vexed  the  best  gal  in  Hoosiertown,  and  it'll  serve  you 
right  if  she  don't  come  into  this  shebang  ag'in  for  a 
week." 

"  Say  the  only  gal  in  Hoosiertown  and  you'll  hit  it," 
replied  Tom,  surlily.  "  'Cause  you're  sweet  on  Nance, 
must  she  go  for  to  fetch  me  a  bat  on  the  side  of  the 
cabesa  like  that?  "Whew I  but  she's  got  a  heavy  hand, 
though ! "  And  Tom  rubbed  his  head,  with  a  comical 
air  of  misery. 

"  If  you  didn't  know  I  was  weakly,"  said  his  brother, 
with  a  very  red  face,  "  you  wouldn't  dare  to  sass  me  like 
that.  Take  that,  impudence !  "  and  here  Hi's  tin  cup  flew 
over  Tom's  head,  that  young  gentleman  having  dodged 
just  in  time. 

But,  though  Hiram  was  yet  "  weakly,"  he  was  now  able 
to  work  quite  regularly  in  his  claim.  He  had  insisted  on 
timbering  the  rude  tunnel;  he  had  a  dread  of  its  caving 
in  upon  him  "again."  as  he  expressed  it — for  Hi  had 
never  been  able  to  get  rid  of  the  idea  that  he  had  oeen 
injured  by  the  falling  of  the  roof  of  his  tunnel.  As  a 
matter  of  opinion,  he  "allowed"  that  Di.  Carscn  was 
right ;  but  he  habitually  spoke  of  his  wounds  as  the  result 


NE  WS  AND  DISCO  VERTES.  2Sfl 

of  "  that  cave."  He  was  afraid  the  roof  would  "  drop 
again." 

"But  the  root  did  not  drop,  Hiram,"  said  the  doeU.i, 
one  day  when  Hi  ram  was  discussing  the  prospects  vf  hi* 
claim. 

"  How  did  my  head  get  caved  in,  then?  "  demanded  Hi. 
"  That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

"  And  that's  what  /  want  to  know,"  replied  the  doctor, 
fixing  his  keen  eyes  on  Hi's  face.  "You  are  found 
wounded  and  bleeding  in  the  road,  a  quarter  of  a  milo 
from  the  claim.  You  say  you  have  been  caved  in  upon 
by  the  tunnel.  But  the  tunnel  is  not  disturbed  in  the 
least.  To  this  day  it  is  all  sound  overhead.  Nobody 
supposes  you  would  tell  a  wrong  story  about  your  misad 
venture,  Hiram.  But  how  were  you  injured?  That's 
what  we  want  to  know." 

Hi  had  only  one  story  to  tell.  And  if  Dr.  Carson  had 
any  theory  of  his  own  (and  very  likely  he  had),  he  gave 
no  hint  of  wliat  it  was.  In  his  occasional  "spells,"  aa 
Tom  impatiently  called  them,  Ili  maundered  on  about  his 
jacket  being  heavy  and  the  day  warm  ;  and  he  almost 
always  pleaded  with  some  imaginary  comrade  that  "it" 
was  "  in  the  other  pocket." 

Mont  gently  tried  at  such  times  to  get  Hi  to  explain. 
"  What  is  in  the  other  pocket,  old  fellow  3  Where  is  your 
pocket  ? "  But  Hi  only  struggled  painfully,  and  begged 
"  Don't  hit  me  ag'in !  Oil,  don't  1 " 

It  was  pitiful.  "  I  give  it  up,"  said  Mont.  It  was  nc 
UBC  trying  to  draw  the  secret  from  him. 

Hi  murmured  and  grumbled  a  great  deal  about  his  lost 

bag  of  dust.     Nevertheless,  he  was  now  meeting  with  good 

fortune  in  his  claim.     He  worked  at  a  great  disadvantage. 

Tom  was  not  a  valuable  assistant,  and  Hi's  health  wa§ 

13 


290  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

very  feeble  indeed.  He  seemed  to  have  lost  much  of  hii 
old  ambition,  though  he  was  covetous  and  avaricious. 
Sometimes  he  was  obliged  to  leave  off  work  for  several 
days  at  a  time.  When  he  went  back  to  his  claim,  he  felt 
more  like  sitting  down  in  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel  and 
musing — while  Tom  went  gunning  for  gophers — than 
striking  with  pick  or  shovel. 

"  Just  my  ornery  luck,"  he  said,  discontentedly  one  day, 
as  he  sat  complaining  to  himself  by  a  heap  of  dirt  thrown 
out  from  the  tunnel.  He  aimlessly  threw  the  lumps  of 
sand  and  dried  earth  at  a  stake  which  marked  a  miner's 
"corner"  near  by.  And  as  he  sat  tossing  the  dirt,  hia 
thoughts  were  not  in  the  diggings.  He  was  thinking  of 
Nance. 

"  Powerful  nice  gal !  "  muttered  Hi  to  himself.  "  Chirky 
and  peart,  but  dreffle  sassy.  My  gosh,  what  a  tongue  !  " — 
and  Hi  let  fly  another  lump  at  Gubbins's  corner  stake. 
"Just  my  ornery  luck  !  " 

Then  he  got  half-way  up,  and,  trembling  with  excite 
ment,  crawled  on  his  hands  and  knees  to  the  little  heap 
of  earth  which  had  fallen  apart  where  it  struck  the  stake. 
He  snatched  the  crumbly  mass  in  his  hands.  It  was 
whitish-yellow,  sprinkled  with  small  angular  bits  of  pure 
white  stone ;  but  all  through  it  were  lumps,  streaks,  and 
jugged  wires  of  gold. 

"  Gosh  all  Friday !  I've  struck  a  quartz  lead !  1'vo 
struck  it!  I've  struck  it!"  And  Hi,  in  a  delirium  of 
joy,  pressed  the  precious  handful  to  his  lips,  as  if  to 
devour  it. 

Tom,  who  was  patiently  waiting  by  the  side  of  a  gopher- 
hole  on  the  hill-side  above,  his  pistol  ready  for  the  first 
appearance  of  its  persecuted  tenant,  looked  down  and  saw 
his  brother's  extraordinary  actions. 


SE  WS  AND  DISCO  VEKIES. 


"  Another  spell  onto  him,  I  s'pose,"  complained  Tom 
and  he  sauntered  down  to  Hi's  relief. 


"  HI   PBESSED  THE  PRECIOUS   HANDFUL  TO  HIS 

Ptx.r  Hiram  looked  vacantly  at  his  brother  when  he 
came  down,  brushed  the  glittering  dust  off  his  face  with  a 
great  effort,  and  said  :  "  Don't  hit  me  ag'in  !  It's  in  the 
other  pocket ! " 


THE  BUY  EMWllAH'1'8. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

DEVELOPMENTS. 

TJIE  news  that  a  rich  quartz  lead  had  been  discos  erod 
on  Brush  Hill  created  a  tremendous  excitement  in  Hoosier- 
town.  Only  a  few  claims  had  been  located  in  that  region, 
and  those  that  were  worked  were  only  considered  as  paying 
fairly.  Before  night  every  foot  of  ground  along  the  hill 
was  taken  up.  Yery  little  was  then  known  about  quartz- 
rnining.  Here  and  there,  deposits  of  decayed  yellowish 
quartz  rock,  richly  speckled  with  gold,  had  been  found. 
These  had  usually  been  dug  out  speedily  with  pick  and 
shovel.  The  rock  was  easily  pulverized,  and,  being 
pounded  in  an  iron  mortar,  or  even  between  two  sm<x>th 
stones,  the  golden  grains  in  it  were  thus  loosened  and  se 
cured.  But  much  of  this  flint-like  quartz  was  pure  white 
and  as  hard  as  adamant.  The  miners  looked  at  it  covet 
ously  and  passed  on  to  find  gold  in  a  more  accessible 
condition. 

Lately,  however,  there  had  been  some  experiments  at 
quartz-mining  with  machinery  in  the  southern  mines. 
There  ran  a  rumor  that  fabulous  sums  had  been  made  by 
crushing  the  gold-bearing  quartz  in  the  Mariposa  country, 
where  some  new  kind  of  machinery  had  been  put  up  for 
that  purpose.  Then,  too,  there  came  inflaming  reports  of 
rich  quartz  mines  be'.ng  found  and  worked  in  Tuolumne. 
The  rock  was  crushed  by  "  arastras,"  as  the  Mexicans 
called  them,  a  simple  invention  of  old  times.  The  arastra 


DE  VEL  OPMEXT8.  293 

was  something  like  a  huge  grindstone,  revolving  oa  an 
axis,  one  end  of  which  was  made  fast  to  an  upright  turn 
ing-post  in  the  centre  of  a  circle,  and  the  other  end  wag 
moved  around  by  mules  or  cattle.  The  great  stone,  re 
volving  over  the  half  broken  quartz  which  was  laid  in  a 
large  circular  trough,  crushed  all  before  it.  Powdered 
quartz  and  free  gold  were  gathered  up  in  a  wet  paste,  and 
the  precious  stuff  was  then  separated  from  the  refuse. 

Very  soon,  quartz-mining  became  "  all  the  rage,"  and 
everybody  wanted  to  try  it.  The  rude  mortar  and  arastra 
served  to  extract  only  the  larger  particles  of  gold ; 
probably,  more  was  wasted  than  was  saved.  The  miners, 
in  their  eagerness  to  crack  open  the  rocky  ledges,  snatch 
the  large  pieces  of  gold  and  go  away,  threw  aside  every 
thing  that  did  not  promise  them  an  immediate  return. 

The  fame  of  the  Mariposa  and  Tuolumne  quartz  ledges 
had  reached  Hoosiertown  and  Brush  Hill  diggings.  Some 
restless  prospectors  had  dug  down  below  the  surface  where 
they  had  found  lumps  of  white  rock  sticking  up  through 
the  soil,  like  a  coat-sleeve  out  at  the  elbow.  But  nobody 
had  found  gold-bearing  quartz ;  it  was  thought  an  unlikely 
thing  that  it  should  exist  here.  And  when  Hi's  discovery 
was  announced,  everybody  said  at  once  that  they  "  always 
knew  there  was  quartz  in  that  hill."  In  Hi's  little  tunnel, 
now  famous,  he  found  a  thin  vein  of  rock  just  cropping 
above  the  irregular  floor  of  the  chamber.  It  was  a  loose, 
friable  sort  of  rosk,  full  of  cracks  and  holes,  easily  scraped 
off  with  a  strong  shovel,  yellowish-white  and  gray  in  color, 
and  mottled  with  gold,  Hi  had  shovelled  up  some  of  this 
loose  rock,  which  soon  became  covered  with  dirt,  and  wafe 
dumped  out  with  what  was  thought  to  be  worthless  stuff 
When  Hi  accidently  cracked  open  one  of  these  rich  him  pa 
of  golden  rock,  it  flashed  on  him  that  he  had  at  la*t 


2'J4  THE  BO  T  EMIGRANTS. 

found  what  the  whole  country  was  looking  for — a  quartz 
lead. 

"A  fool  for  luck,"  said  some  of  the  Hoosiertown  miners 
when  they  found  that  Hi  had  blundered  on  a  mine  oi 
gold.  Then  they  rushed  out  to  Brush  Hill  and  covered  it 
over  with  stakes  and  notices  of  claims.  Men  who  were 
making  fortunes  in  the  river  diggings,  or  in  the  ravine 
claims,  dropped  everything  else  and  seized  upon  quartz- 
mining  as  affording  the  very  shortest  road  to  riches.  It 
was  early  in  the  forenoon  when  Hi,  weak  and  overcome 
by  his  sudden  discovery,  had  fallen  in  a  fit.  Tom,  with 
great  amazement,  had  wiped  the  golden  dust  and  dirt 
from  his  brother's  face,  and  had  dragged  him  into  the  cool 
shadow  of  the  tunnel,  where  he  gradually  recovered. 
It  was  noon  when  Hiram,  feverish  and  trembling,  was 
able  to  examine  his  vein  of  quartz  and  gold,  and  tell  his 
nearest  neighbors  of  his  luck.  Before  the  sun  went  down 
that  night,  Brush  Hill  was  looked  upon  as  a  bank  on  which 
hundreds  of  men  were  to  present  checks  in  the  shape  of 
picks  and  shovels,  and  draw  gold  in  any  quantity. 

Hiram  was  the  hero  of  the  hour.  He  bore  his  fame 
with  indifference,  and  announced  his  readiness  to  sell  out 
and  go  back  to  the  States.  Everybody  wanted  to  buy. 
Nobody  was  willing  to  say  what  the  claim  was  worth. 
Some  men  thought  it  ought  to  bring  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  There  were  those  who  said  that  capitalists  at  the 
Bay,  as  San  Francisco  wTas  called,  would  jump  at  a  chance 
to  give  two  millions  for  it. 

"Two  millions!  "  whispered  Hi  to  himself.  "What  a 
heap  of  money  !  Is  there  so  much  in  this  yere  world  ?  " 

Nevertheless,  nobody  offered  to  buy  the  mine  at  any 
specified  price,  and  Hi  and  Tom  went  on  slowly  digging 
in  it. 


DEVELOPMENTS.  29£ 

One  Sunday  morning,  when  Hoosiertown  was  given  up 
to  the  cleaning,  cooking,  mending,  and  letter-writing,  with 
which  that  day  was  always  occupied  in  the  mines,  a-rough- 
oearded,  red  shirted.  booted  miner  rode  down  the  divide 
just  south  of  Table  Mountain,  and  made  his  way  into 
Hoosiertown.  Stopping  at  the  express  office,  a  log  hut  of 
noble  dimensions,  he  inquired  for  '•'  the  boys  from  Crow- 
bait,  whosumdever  they  might  be." 

He  was  directed  to  the  cabin  where  Mont,  Barnard,  Hi. 
and  the  three  boys  were  gathered  about  the  door.  With 
out  wasting  words  on  the  loungers  at  the  express  office, 
he  cantered  across  the  branch,  dismounted,  and  saluted 
the  party  with,  "  Howdy  ?  Nice  day." 

Seating  himself  on  Arty's  chopping-block,  he  opened 
bis  errand. 

"  Which  of  you  fellers  is  Hi  Fender? " 

"  That's  my  name,"  answered  Hi. 

"  How's  yer  head  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  curious  grin. 
"  I'm  from  Cherokee  Flat,  t'other  side  of  the  divide." 

" Tolerable-like,"  said  Hi.  "Glad  to  see  ye.  My 
head's  improvin',  thank  ye.  How's  yerself  ? " 

"It's  just  like  this,"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  queer  and 
inconsequent  way.  "We  caught  a  feller  a-robbin'  Ken 
tucky  Bob's  sluice,  over  to  Cherokee,  last  night.  Bob  let 
drive  at  him  and  shot  him  in  the  leg — winged  him,  so  to 
epcak.  Dark  night,  yer  see,  or  Bob  'd  done  better.  A  ny- 
how,  the  thief  couldn't  get  away,  and  we  boys  turned  out 
and  tied  him  up  for  the  night.  This  morninr  he  war 
tried.  Do  yer  f oiler  me  ?  " 

His  listeners  assured  him  that  they  understood  him,  and 
lie  went  on. 

"  When  he  waa  go:ie  through  with,  we  lighted  on  a  bag 
of  dust  stowed  away  in  his  traps.  Look  yar,"  and  the 


296  THE  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

man  opened  a  buckskin  bag  and  poured  into  the  erowi 
of  his  hat  a  handful  of  coarse  gold  "  This  yar,"  he  said 
parting  some  grains  of  light-colored  yellow  metal  from  the 
other,  "is  Cherokee  gold.  All  on  cur  side  of  the  dhide, 
leastways  as  fur  as  we've  prospected,  is  like  that  thar. 
This  yar," — and  here  his  stumpy  linger  poked  out  some 
coarser  bits  of  dark  reddish  gold, — "  this  yar  came  from 
your  side  of  Table  Mountain.  Brush  Hill  gold,  bein'  a 
gold-sharp,  I  mought  say." 

Nobody  replied. 

"Now  yer  see  that  when  we  went  through  this  yar 
galoot,  we  found  his  buckskin  full  of  all  sorts  and  kinds. 
Sure  as  shootin'  he  had  been  playin'  it  low  down  on  am 
number  of  honest  miners.  Not  bein'  an  honest  miner 
himself,  he  had  bin  goin'  for  everything  in  sight  on  both 
sides  of  Table  Mount'in.  D'yer  foller  my  meanin  ? " 

Mont,  rather  impatiently,  said  that  they  did,  and  would 
like  the  rest  of  his  story. 

"/V^-eisely,"  said  the  man,"  and  jest  what  I  was  comin' 
to  when  you  interrupted  me.  Seein'  as  how  this  chap 
didn't  hev  long  to  live,  we  gave  him  warnin'  to  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  which  he  did.  He  hadn't  sold  no  dust, 
but  had  packed  it  away  in  holes  and  crevices,  where  we 
found  most  of  it.  This  yar  dark  gold,  from  the  south  of 
the  divide,  he  allowed  was  some  out  of  a  lot  that  he  goi 
away  with  belongin'  to  a  chap  by  the  name  of  Fender. 
Yar  it  is  writ  out,  yer  see,  by  the  clerk  of  the  meetiif . 
'  Hiram  Fender,  which  is  you,  accordin'  to  'pcarances  "•—• 
»nd  the  man  saluted  Hi,  with  gravity. 

Hiram  looked  at  him  painfully  and  with  a  troubled  ex 
pression,  and  said : 

"I  allow  he  must  have  found  my  bag  when  .T  dropred. 
the  day  I  was  caved  in  <%TI." 


DE  VEL  OPMENT&  297 

"Nary  time,  strannger.  He  confessed  that  he  laid  for 
you  better'n  four  days,  a-waitin'  fur  you  to  get  where  he 
could  knock  you  over  and  go  fur  yer  buckskin.  One  day, 
lie  war  on  the  nigh  side  of  Table  Mount'in  as  yer  went 
down  the  trail  from  yer  claim.  Yer  slouched  along  right 
under  whar  he  war,  leastways  so  he  allowed  to  us.  Then 
he  rocked  yer.  The  first  dornick  took  yer  plum'  on  the 
cabesa,  and  yer  dropped  in  yer  tracks.  He  let  fly  another 
at  yer,  climbed  down  the  bluff,  went  through  yer  clothes, 
nipped  yer  buckskin,  and  lit  out.  Leastways,  so  he  let 
en  to  us  at  the  meetin'." 

"  Good  Heavens !  "  said  Mont,  "  this  is  an  amazing 
etory ! " 

Arthur,  whose  eyes  had  opened  wider  and  wider  while 
the  story  was  being  told,  exclaimed  : 

"  Do  you  know  this  man's  name  '(  " 

"  Well,  I  disremember.  Usual  he  war  called  Lame 
Bill,  but  I  allow  it  war  some  such  name  as  Bunch." 

"  Bunce  !  "  cried  the  boys. 

"  You've  hit  it.     Bunce  war  his  name." 

"  Was  his  name  ?  "  &aid  Barnard.     You  don't  mean — " 

"  Precisely.  What  little  he  had  to  say,  he  said 
a-standin'  on  a  wagon-box,  with  a  rope  around  his  neck, 
and  it  over  a  convenient  sycamore  handy  by.  The  boys 
war  a  buryin'  of  him  when  I  left." 

"  Lynched  \ "  said  the  boys  with  horror. 

i(  Lynched  it  war.  But  everything  reg'lar.  He  couldn't 
hev  asked  for  no  sq'arer  game.  Chairman,  clerk,  rope- 
committee,  and  everything  accordin'  to  rule.  Oh,  we're 
a  law-abidin'  lot  on  OUT  side  of  the  divide. 

This  was  slightly  sarcastic,  for  there  had  been  some 
scandalous  irregularities  reported  of  the  Hoosiertown 
people. 

13* 


2»8  THE  VOf  EMIGRANTS. 

"  Law-abidin'  people  and  travel  on  the  sq'ar',  Y"oiu 
triend  Bunch  went  off  like  a  lamb." 

"  Did  he  really  say  that  he  dropped  rocks  on  my  head  ? '' 
asked  Hi,  who  could  not  believe  this  story. 

"  Sartin,  sartin.     Didn't  yer  feel  'em  ? " 

"No,"  said  Mont.  "Hi  has  never  had  a  clear  idea  of 
what  happened.  The  first  blow  made  him  insensible, 
probably,  and  his  brain  was  so  affected  by  the  hurt  that  he 
had  a  notion  that  he  had  been  caved  on  while  in  the  tun 
nel.  He  never  knew  what  hurt  him." 

"  Sho,  now !  " 

"It  is  a  very  strange  case.  Did  Bunco  say  how  Hi 
behaved  when  he  was  robbed  of  his  bag  of  dust?  " 

"  I  disremember  pertickler.  But  he  did  say  that  whih; 
he  war  a-goin'  through  yer  pardner  thar,  that  he  sorter 
freshened  up  a  bit,  and  sung  out  to  Bunch,  so  he  did,  and 
says,  'Don't  hit  me  ag'in  ;  it's  in  the  other  pocket' — 
meanin'  the  dust,  yer  see.  With  that.  Bunch  he  clips 
him  another,  which  finishes  him,  he  allowed.  Then  lie 
grabs  the  buckskin,  does  Bunch,  and  breaks  for  tali 
timber." 

"  The  story  is  complete,  Hi,  my  boy,"  added  Barney. 
"I  guess  Dr.  Carson  had  it  all  figured  out,  except  as  to 
the  robber.  You  know  Arty  saw  Bunce  from  the  hill." 

"  I'm  clean  beat,  and  don't  know  anything  about  it," 
said  Hiram,  discontentedly.  And  he  sat  back  from  the 
group  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  no  further  interest  in  a 
discussion. 

"  And  yar,'*  said  the  stranger,  producing  an  empty 
buckskin  bag,  "  yar  is  a  bag  that  we  allowed  belonged 
over  yar.  Hit's  got  '  Bostons '  onto  it,  and  you  chaps  !  aU 
from  thereaway,  they  say." 


DEVELOPMENTS.  299 

"  My  bag ! ''  exclaimed  Arty.  "  I  marked  that  on  there 
and  gave  the  bag  to  Hi.  Was  there  anything  in  it?" 

"  No,"  said  the  man.  "  Hit  war  stowed  inside  of  an 
other  buckskin.  Both  on  'em  war  buried  near  a  lono 
pine,  where  we  found  'em  'cordin'  to  directions." 

It  was  then  explained  that  the  "  meetin'  "  at  Cherokee 
had  directed  this  envoy  to  leave  with  Hiram  Fender  the 
gold  which  had  been  sent  over.  It  belonged  to  nobody  at 
Cherokee.  It  was  about  equal  in  weight  to  the  darker 
gold  found  among  Bunce's  deposits.  The  rest  had  been 
confiscated,  by  popular  decree,  for  the  relief  of  a  distressed 
miner  who  was  laid  up  with  the  rheumatism. 

"  One  more  question  before  you  go,"  said  Mont.  Did 
Bunce  confess  any  other  crimes  before  he  was — hanged?" 

"  Heaps,  heaps  on  'em,"  replied  the  man.  "  But  none 
that  I  set  much  by.  Except  he  denied  that  he  stole 
Columbus's  money  at  Loup  Fork,  as  one  of  our  fellers 
said  he  did.  It  war  his  pardner,  Eph  Mullet,  that  did 
that.  Leastways,  so  Lame  Bill  allowed.  Hit  don't  mat 
ter  now,  anyhow." 

So  saying,  he  swung  himself  into  his  saddle,  touched 
liis  horse's  flank,  clattered  over  the  branch,  down  the 
trail,  and  disappeared  in  the  thickets  which  covered  the 
divide. 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  with  a  feeling  of  awe. 
Bill  Bunce  had  at  last  met  with  his  fate.  He  would  lie 
and  steal  no  more.  "With  his  lawless  taking  off  had  come 
the  explanation  of  Hi's  mysterious  disaster.  Here  was 
conclusive  proof  that  Hi  had  been  living  under  a  strange 
delusion.  Indeed,  he  was  still  deluded.  His  comrades 
were  satisfied  that  he  had  been  waylaid,  cruelly  wounded, 
and  robbed  by  Bunce.  Arty  and  Johnny  had  seen  the 
crime  from  the  hill,  though  they  had  not  seen  Hiram  \u 


300  THE  BOY  EMIGRANTS. 

the  road  below.     Arty  went  over  the  whole  story  again, 
point  by  point. 

Hi  only  said:  "Boys,  it  gets  me.  I  give  it  up.  1 
s'pose  you're  right  But  I  allow  I  shall  never  fci  ow  how 
i{  happened." 


RECKONING  UP  THE  GAINS.  301 


CHAPTEK  XXIX. 

RECKONING   UP   THE   GAINS. 

Hi's  "  .lick  "  did  not  seem  to  desert  him,  although  no 
body  made  a  distinct  offer  to  buy  his  quartz  lead.  There 
was  mnch  talk  about  capitalists  coining  up  from  the  Bay 
in  search  of  just  such  investments  as  this.  Somehow,  they 
never  came,  and  Hi  went  on  with  his  work,  his  comrades 
occasionally  giving  him  a  helping  hand.  A  week  had 
passed  since  his  great  discovery,  and  the  people  who  had 
taken  up  claims  on  Brush  Hill  were  becoming  discon 
tented  with  their  failure  to  "  strike  it  rich."  Hi  steadily 
took  out  gold-bearing  quartz  in  paying  quantities ;  the 
gold  was  pounded  out  in  a  big  iron  mortar,  brought  at 
great  expense  from  San  Francisco. 

One  day  Tom  was  industriously  picking  away  at  the 
loose  vein  of  rock  inside  the  tunnel,  when  he  uttered  a 
wild  shriek,  which  made  Hi  drop  his  basket  nervously  and 
hurry  to  the  spot.  Tom  had  cleft  off  a  thin  layer  of  rock 
which  slanted  downward  beneath  the  surface.  About  six 
inches  below  this  was  another  similar  layer,  and  between 
these  two,  as  far  as  uncovered,  was  a  reddish-gray  deposit 
of  rotten  rock,  veined  and  mottled  through  and  through 
with  virgin  gold.  It  was  nearly  one-half  gold,  glittering, 
sparkling,  and  in  all  sorts  of  shapes.  Some  of  it  was  liko 
ferns,  in  long  and  leafy  sprays ;  some  was  ]  ike  sheete 
of  foil,  crumpled  and  tumbled  in  the  hand ;  and  some 
was  in  thick  splinters,  as  if  it  had  been  hammered  into 


302  THE  SOT  EMIGRANTS. 

the  crevices  of  the  rock  ages  ago,  before  these  quartz  cry» 
tals  had  begun  to  decay. 

Hi  uttered  a  howl  of  delight,  and  seized  the  pick  from 
Tom's  unwilling  hand.  In  a  moment,  he  had  laid  bare 
the  vein,  which  did  not  extend  quite  across  the  tunnel. 
Trembling  with  eagerness,  he  held  the  candle  down  to  the 
shining  mass,  and  said  :  "  Millions  !  millions  !  millions  ! " 

"  And  I  struck  it,"  added  Tom,  proudly. 

"  So  you  did,  Tommy,  my  boy,"  said  Hi,  fondly.  "  So 
you  did,  and  a  right  peart  striker  you  be.  You  shall  have 
a  specimen  out  of  this  for  a  buzzum-pin,  so  you  shall ; 
and  we'll  go  back  to  Sugar  Grove  and  hold  up  our  heads 
with  them  proud  Gashwilers  and  Perkinses  and  all  the 
rest." 

And  Hi  lovingly  laid  a  golden  leaf  in  his  hands  and 
doubled  it  up,  as  if  in  mere  wantonness  of  wealth.  It 
was  a  wonderful  thing  to  be  able  to  handle  one's  own 
gold  like  that — just  as  if  it  were  sheets  of  common  tin. 

"Now,  you  Tom,  just  keep  your  mouth  shet  about  this. 
Don't  let  it  get  around.  We'll  have  the  whole  camp  down 
on  us  if  ye  do." 

"What!"  cried  Tom,  opening  his  eyes  very  wide. 
"  Not  tell  Mont  and  the  boys  ? " 

"  Sartinly  not !  sartinly  not ! "  replied  his  brother,  and 
his  face  grew  haggard  and  anxious  as  he  regarded  the 
glittering  vein.  "  Nothin'  to  nobody.  D'ye  hear  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  hear,"  said  Tom,  whc  was  bursting  to  rush  out 
and  tell  the  news. 

That  \iight  Hi  went  staggering  home  with  the  proceeds 
of  his  day's  work,  mingled  with  bits  of  broken  quartz 
with  gold  sticking  to  them. 

"What  luck  to-day?"  asked  Doctor  Carson,  checking 
his  horse  as  he  rode  past  the  two  brothers. 


RECKONING  UP  THE  GAINS.  303 

"  Oh,  just  ornery,  just  ornery,  Doctor.  Times  is  dreflio 
mixed  up,  here,"  answered  Hi,  with  something  like  a 
whine. 

"Golly  I  what  a  whopper  1"  cried  Tom,  as  the  doctor 
rode  off  with  a  pleasant  word  and  smile  for  the  boys. 

"  Keep  yer  head  shet,  will  yer,  young  one  ?  You  are 
the  talkinest  creature  I  ever  came  acrost.  Didn't  I  say 
that  things  was  mixed  ?  Ain't  that  gettin'  around  the 
truth  without  strainin'  it?" 

But  Hi  felt  guilty  ;  and  when  he  remembered  how  Dr. 
Carson  had  guessed  out  the  whole  truth  about  the  affaii 
of  Bunce,  he  was  afraid  that  he  might  somehow  divine  the 
golden  secret  of  the  mine. 

When  Hi  and  Tom  reached  the  cabin,  they  tound  the 
rest  of  the  party  in  great  excitement.  Arty  had  that  day 
found  in  the  claim  two  nuggets,  or  chispas,  worth  at  least 
five  hundred  dollars  each. 

"Aren't  they  beauties,  Hi?"  asked  Johnny;  and  he 
rolled  the  potatoe-shaped  lumps  over  and  over  on  the  sup 
per-table. 

"  Hang  it  all,  boys,"  said  Hi,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  can 
dor.  "  1  didn't  mean  to  tell.  But  just  look  at  this  yere." 
And  he  poured  out  the  glittering  contents  of  his  sack. 

"  There  now !  "  exclaimed  Tom.  "  You've  been  and 
gone  and  told,  and  1  kept  shut  about  it !  " 

"  Didn't  mean  to  tell  ?  "  said  Mont,  with  a  look  of  sur 
prise.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  would  keep  the 
good  news  from  us,  Hi  ? " 

Hi  blushed  and  explained  that  he  wanted  to  keep  the 
news  of  his  rich  strike  from  the  rest  of  the  camp.  He 
could  not  keep  it  from  the  boys  when  he  saw  how  frank 
they  were.  But  it  was  all  out  now.  Would  the  boys  saj 
nothing  about  it  for  the  present  ? 


S(H  THB  EOT  EMIGRANTS. 

Tliorc  Mas  no  need.  The  very  next  day,  Hi,  scooping 
out  the  contents  of  the  rift  of  rock  in  which  his  treasure 
lay,  suddenly  struck  his  pick  against  a  hard  wall.  It  was 
ilio  vrgin  quartz — pure,  white,  adamantine,  and  -vithout 
a  flaw  or  seam.  In  this  shallow  fissure  the  decayed  gold- 
boaring  quartz  had  been  shut  up  for  ages.  A  day's  work 
tiad  been  sufficient  to  scrape  it  all  out ;  and  the  pocket 
was  empty. 

Ili  nervously  plied  his  pick  and  shovel  in  all  directions. 
For  hours  he  dug  aud  scratched  at  the  rock,  above,  below, 
to  the  left  and  to  the  right  In  vain ;  only  barren  quartz 
met  him  on  all  sides.  Eli  wiped  his  heated  head  aud 
shoulders  and  sat  down  to  rest,  at-  hist. 

"  There's  no  use  talkin',  Tom.  This  yerc  claim's  played 
out.  I'm  goiu'  home." 

And,  in  spite  of  Tom's  remonstrances,  Hiram  deliber 
ately  shouldered  his  bag  of  ore  and  mining-tools,  and  set 
his  face  towards  the  tunnel's  mouth.  Beaching  the  opcti 
air,  he  blew  out  his  candle,  laid  it  carefully  away  in  a 
crevice  of  rock,  as  if  he  was  going  away  for  the  night. 
But,  turning  about,  he  said : 

"Grood-by,  old  tunnel.  You've  given  me  sorrer,  and 
you've  given  me  gold.  We  part  friends.  Pm  bound  for 
the  States  1 " 

"  To  the  States ! "  re-echoed  the  boys  in  grand  chorus, 
when  Hiram,  that  night,  announced  las  sudden  determi 
nation. 

"  Yes.  I've  made  my  pile,  you  see.  Not  millions,  nor 
even  hundred  thousands,  but  inore'u  I  ever  thought  for 
when  I  started.  It  don't  pay,  this  liviii'  in  a  hole  in  the 
ground." 

""Well,  I  must  Bay,"  said  Barney,  with  deliberation, 
"  this  is  a  new  freak  for  you.  What  has  happened  tc 


UP  TIMS  GAINS,  s  2 

change  jour  mind  about  making  that  million  that  yoi 
tlkought  you  had  struck  I " 

"  Oh,  I  aay,  I  wonder  if  it  isnt  because  Nance  and  hei 
folks  are  going  home!  "  broke  in  little  Johnny,  with  great 
simplicity. 

tt  Yer  talk  too  much,  youngster,"  interrupted  Hi,  wrath- 
fully ;  but  he  blushed  red,  nevertheless. 

«  We  may  as  well  all  go  together,"  said  Arty.  «  We've 
•ent  home  five  thousand  dollars,  all  told.  Haven't  we  got 
as  much  more,  share  and  share  alike,  Barney  Crogan  f  * 

They  took  account  of  stock,  went  over  all  their  gains, 
and  found  that  they  would  have,  after  selling  their  claim, 
thirty  thousand  dollars.  This  was  a  fortune  to  the  boys. 
Divided,  it  gave  Barney  and  Arthur  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  between  them,  and  die  same  to  Mont  and  his  little 
partner. 

Hi  and  his  brother,  notwithstanding  their  occasional 
tt  spurts  of  luck,"  had  not  accumulated  quite  that  total 
sum.  HFs  sickness  had  disabled  him,  various  eipamei 
had  eaten  into  the  profits,  and  the  gold  never  toned  out 
to  be  so  much  in  value  as  it  looked. 

The  boys  decided  te  go  hoese. 


306  THE  BO  J  EMIGRANTS. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

HOMEWARD     BOUSD. 

PEOPLE  moved  suddenly  in  t.iose  days.  A  miner  would 
go  to  his  cabin  at  night,  grimy  with  a  day's  work,  a/id 
leaving  his  pick  and  shovel  in  his  claim,  next  day,  clad 
in  a  "  biled  "  (or  white)  shirt,  and  uncomfortable  in  "  store 
clothes,"  he  would  wave  a  farewell  from  the  top  of  the 
stage,  or  from  the  back  of  his  mule,  as  he  took  his  way  to 
Sacramento,  San  Francisco,  and  the  States. 

Early  in  September,  Jehiel  Bush,  seedy  but  cheery, 
dropped  his  mining  kit  in  front  of  the  Hoosiertown  ex 
press  office,  and  said  to  a  noisy  party  of  card-players 
within : 

"  Can  any  of  this  gay  and  garrulous  crowd  tell  a  passing 
stranger  where  to  find  the  Boston  Boys? " 

"  Reckon  you'll  find  'em  down  about  the  Bay  scmewhar, 
Btrannger.  It's  your  deal,  Kaintuck,"  and  the  iran  went 
on  with  his  play. 

"  Sho  !  you  don't  tell  me  so  1  Gone  to  the  Bay  1  Made 
their  pile  ? " 

"  They've  made  right  smart,  I  hear,"  explained  one  of 
the  lounging  group.  "Ye  see,  Nance  she  went  with  the 
old  man  Dobbs.  Then  the  feller  that  struck  :t  up  cii 
Brush  Hill,  he  went.  Then  that  smart  Boston  chap,  he 
went,  and  the  whole  kit  and  caboodle  of  'em  went" 

"To  the  States  ?"  said  Bush,  aghast. 

"  That's  the  size  of  it,  strannger.'1 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  30? 

Bush  looked  down  dejectedly,  and  murmured :  "  And 
I'm  clean  busted !  Oh,  it  gets  'em !  it  gets  'eni !  One  gal 
like  that  can  clear  out  a  hull  camp."  Sc  saying,  he 
shouldered  his  pack  and  moved  on. 

In  those  days  there  were  steamers  plying  between  San 
Francisco  and  Panama,  laden  with  homeward-bound  gold- 
hunters.  Now  and  then  there  was  a  fearful  disaster,  and 
hundreds  of  men,  with  their  faces  turned  towards  home, 
sunk  in  the  waters.  In  a  little  space,  a  ship-load  of  hope 
fulness,  life,  manhood,  and  treasure  was  swallowed  in  the 
sea.  But,  safely  creeping  down  the  coast,  across  the  hot 
and  gorgeous  isthmus  of  Panama,  and  up  the  boisterous 
Atlantic,  went  our  young  adventurers. 

It  was  a  happy  day  when  the  boys,  so  lately  from  the 
rough  wilds  of  California,  found  themselves  in  the  glitter 
and  excitement  of  New  York.  The  streets  seemed  foreign 
to  them,  and  the  great  stores  were  almost  awful  in  their 
magnificence.  But  their  thoughts  ran  out  to  the  West, 
where  father,  mother,  brothers  and  sisters  waited  for 
them,  day  by  day.  It  was  hard  parting  with  Mont ; 
but  he  manfully  insisted  that  it  was  only  for  a  time. 
They  should  meet  again,  and  soon.  lie  had  lost  his 
taste  for  city  life;  he  would  go  out  West,  and  settle 
down  in  Lee  County,  by  and  by.  So  he  sped  home  to 
his  mother. 

In  the  houses  of  Stevens  and  Fender,  at  Sugar  Grove, 
there  was  great  rejoicing  when  the  fortunate  young  gol  cl 
ickers,  like  seamen  from  the  waters,  came  home  in  tri 
umph.  Farmer  Stevens  and  Oliver  had  gone  into  town 
with  their  new  farm-wagon,  and,  meeting  tho  wanderers 
at  the  stage,  had  brought  them  out,  bag  and  baggage, 
and  with  great  acclaim,  Arty  standing  up  with  a  flag 
handkerchief  on  a  ramrod,  as  the  party  drove  up  tho 


308  THE  BOJ  EMIGRANTS. 

farm-road.  It  was  like  the  last  act  in  a  play,  when  all 
is  happiness,  reunion,  and  corgratulation.  The  boys 
who  had  gone  out  with  slender  equipment,  followed  by 
hopes  and  fears,  prayers  and  forebodings,  had  come 
again,  rejoicing  and  bringing  their  golden  sheaves  with 
them. 

"  And  this  is  little  Johnny  ? "  said  the  good  mother, 
when  Barney  and  Arty  had  been  welcomed  again  and 
again. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  broke  in  Arthur.  "  And  he  shall  never 
go  away,  shall  he?  Say  that's  so,  quick,  because  you 
know,"  and  the  lad  dropped  his  voice,  "  he's  got  no  home 
unless  it  is  with  us." 

"Johnny  shall  stay  with  my  boys  ever  and  always,  if  he 
likes,"  said  the  mother. 

Barnard,  with  a  little  air  of  authority,  added  :  "  I'm 
Johnny's  guardian,  and  he  shall  stay  with  me." 

"  My  son ! "  said  the  home-mother,  her  kindly  arm 
about  the  orphan's  shoulder.  The  lad's  blue  eyes  were 
moist  as  he  kissed  his  new  mother.  He  was  at  home  at 
last. 

How  Johnny  came  into  his  own  again,  and  how  he  sent 
back  to  Mont  all  that  was  left  of  his  own  share  of  the 
gold,  when  he  was  once  more  settled — these  and  other 
things  can  be  left  to  the  imagination  of  the  dear  young 
folks  who  have  followed  the  varying  fortunes  of  the  Boy 
Emigrants. 

Prosperity  came  back  to  the  Grove  from  the  Golden 
Land.  Barney,  Arty,  and  Johnny  told  their  adventures 
over  and  over  again  in  the  comfortable  home  of  the  Ste 
vens  family,  and  to  willing  ears. 

Old  man  Fender  thought  that  Hi  had  "missed  it"  by 
leaving  his  mining  partners  and  striking  out  for  himself 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  309 

ff  Hi  had  not  been  ignorant,  he  said,  he  NrouH  have  been 
more  patient  and  more  successful.  So,  as  he  leans  over 
his  fence-rail,  smoking  his  pipe  at  eventide,  he  looks  at 
fl-e  tidy  Stevens  farm,  and  mutters: 

'•'  Tell  yer  what—  eddication's  a  great  thing !  " 


TOE  END. 


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